


The Descent

by SilverShroud



Series: The Descent [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Anger, Boys In Love, Break Up, Cedric Diggory Lives, Cedric Diggory-centric, Complete, Dark Character, Death Eaters, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grooming, Homophobia, Hufflepuff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Power Imbalance, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Radicalization, Suicide Attempt, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShroud/pseuds/SilverShroud
Summary: In the Darkest of all possible futures a twist of fate meant to save him led Cedric Diggory to choose an entirely different path.Or: The story of how Cedric Diggory became a Death Eater. This fic was born of my catching a throwaway line in the Cursed Child about Cedric Diggory becoming a Death Eater. We see a lot about political radicalisation these days and I wanted to have a good delve into why someone (especially someone like Cedric) could end up wanting to join an organisation like that
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Cedric Diggory/Original Male Character(s)
Series: The Descent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981183
Comments: 40
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born of my catching a throwaway line in the Cursed Child about Cedric Diggory becoming a Death Eater. We see a lot about political radicalisation these days and I wanted to have a good delve into why someone (especially Cedric) could end up wanting to join an organisation like that. I know that people dislike CC because of things like this but actually to me they're the most interesting parts because young men like Cedric DO get radicalised and join extremist groups. In Cursed Child it's implied that Cedric begins to turn after he is publicly humiliated and so I have chosen to start the story at a point a few weeks after the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of his humiliation in the second task Cedric struggles to cope with being the school joke.

Of all the people to see him hex the little snotbag it had to have been Cho. Cedric felt like a ghost watching the scene from the outside as she looked from him to the Creevey boy, her face a picture of disgust and horror.

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?” She demanded, staring him down, outrage in every fibre of her being.

Cedric felt a lurch of vicious satisfaction as he watched the Gryffindor scramble to his feet, give him one last terrified glance and then stumble away.

“He’s only twelve what – you…” she trailed off, seemingly too angry to speak.

“He brought it on himself,” Cedric snarled, “his and his little pussy cat friends and their stupid chants about bubblehead –“

“Oh grow up,” Cho snapped, “so some kids laughed at you. Who cares?”

“I care,” Cedric roared, all of his burgeoning guilt evaporating in a fresh burst of anger. “I can’t go anywhere without Potter’s perfect pussycats smirking at me.”

Cho drew herself up to her full height, still a good six inches short of his own and glared up at him. “And that makes it okay to behave like a bully and a cowards who goes around attacking little kids?”

“If anyone had listened,” Cedric blustered, “if they’d actually investigated they’d know that I was sabotaged and then..”

Cho rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about this again. We’re talking about today. You’re a prefect too so I’m going to give you a chance to go to Professor Sprout yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some naughty child.” Cedric spat.

“Then don’t behave like one.” She threw back. “If you want to keep seeing me then go to Professor Sprout yourself. Either way you’re going to have to take some responsibility for this.”

“Oh yeah,” he said mockingly, “that’s going to go well. ‘Sorry Professor. I’m being laughed at by the whole school so I lost my temper and hexed the ringleader’.”

He knew this wasn’t rational, that it wouldn’t get him what he actually wanted, but right now that didn’t matter. Anger was better than the shame and humiliation of having to endure such public failure. 

Cho shook her head, her anger suddenly seeming to melt away. “Not everyone is laughing, Ced.” She looked at him sadly. “This,” she gestured around as if taking in the whole scene, “isn’t you. Whatever is going on for you please sort it out.”

Cedric shrugged and turned away. “You don’t get it do you? How this feels for me. You just don’t get it.” 

Cho stood in the archway leading down to the entrance hall, her features shaded by the slanting rays of the sun coming through the space behind her. “No,” she said, “but if you’d give the people who care about you a chance to help then maybe it would be easier.” And with that she turned and headed away in the direction of her tower leaving him alone feeling angrier and more frustrated than ever. He set off for supper in a foul mood, stalking past another group of sniggering Gryffindors and not even pausing to greet the Fat Friar, who was floating absent mindedly up from the cellars near the common room. The ghost gave a yelp of surprise as Cedric charged through him.

“I say! Cedric m’boy…”

Cedric wasn’t paying attention as he entered the Great Hall and nearly collided with his friend Humphrey. 

“Hey Diggers,” Humphrey was all smiles and punctuated his greeting with a hearty back slap. “Crack a smile! Had another run in with your bird?”

Cedric rolled his eyes and glanced towards the Ravenclaw table. “Alright, alright.” Humphrey raised his hands in a ‘not my business’ gesture and together they walked over to the Hufflepuff table and their small knot of 6th years. Cedric dearly wanted to just get on with eating, already worn out by a particularly tricky potions class and then the disastrous end to his charms lesson and confrontation with Cho.

“Evelyn told me about the idiots after Charms.” His other best friend and keeper on the Quidditch team, Alfred, has turned to him sympathetically, nodding his chin to where she sat. “Hope you gave him detention for his cheek.”

Cedric reached for a platter of roast potatoes. “Nah,” he said disinterestedly, “hexed him until he cried for his Mum.”

“Ha, that’d be great.” Humphrey scooped up a generous helping of roast veg and then, when Cedric remained silent, looked at him as if willing him to be joking. “You didn’t ACTUALLY do it though, right? I mean I know he’s a…”

“…jumped up little shit.” Chimed in Alfred.

“Yes that.” Humphrey continued. “But he’s only a stupid kid.”

Wanting desperately to end this conversation before it got any further out of his control Cedric let out a laugh. “Come on guys, would I really?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Humphrey’s smile grew wider. “You’ve had a pretty swollen head lately.”

A sudden and visceral desire to punch the well-meaning grin off Humphrey’s face rose up inside Cedric. He forced out another laugh and chucked a bread roll instead. It missed the mark and sailed down to hit Ernie, one of the fourth years. Ernie, always rather pompous and fond of his own voice, looked like he was about to say something disapproving. Instead, when he saw who it was that had hit him his disapproval vanished and was replaced with an ingratiating smile.

Cedric was just beginning to relax when there was a sudden angry shout from further down the table.

“Oi, Diggory.”

A ripple of disturbance was spreading up the Hufflepuff table. Alicia Spinnett was making her way up the gap between them with a face like thunder. Finally someone to fight. It felt like the tension in him had been building for weeks up to this point. He got to his feet, wand held casually at his side.

“How’s it going, Alicia?” He said coolly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement at the high table. The teachers were beginning to pay attention.

“An awful lot better than Colin Creevey,” she said acidly, “who is currently in the hospital wing whilst Madame Pomfrey fixes those boils.”

Cedric shrugged, feeling uncomfortably visible to the curious eyes of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws now listening in. “So, what am I supposed to do? Apologise to the little idiot? He should have kept his smart remarks to himself.”

Alicia looked like she was about to hex him there and then. “An apology would be a good start.”

“No.” Cedric felt reckless now. He wasn’t going to be shown up in public again like the last time. If anyone was going to back down now it would have to be her. There was a warning hand on his arm, Alfred, being the Prefect that he, Cedric, should be doing. Cedric shook it off angrily.

Alicia made a harsh noise of frustration. “I swear to Merlin, Diggory, if you don’t rein in that shitty attitude, I’ll have you back floating up to the rafters in your underwear before you can say Quidditch.”

“Ced,” Humphrey this time, “sit down.”

Cedric’s grip on his wand tightened. “Come on then, Spinnett, if you want to lose your house some points then by all means.”

“Whatever, bubble boy.”

Cedric saw red. Alfred had made a move to grab him but he wrenched free and had his wand up and spell on his lips when Humphrey jumped onto the back of him, in the confusion he lost his balance and careened into Alfred. All three of them and Alicia wound up in an undignified heap on the floor.

“YOU FOUR,” The sight of Professor Sprout looming large over him was the first time that day that Cedric had felt in any way guilty. “CEASE THIS NONSENSE AT ONCE.” His normally genial head of house seemed to expand outwards from sheer outrage. The four of them got to their feet. Cedric was glad to see Alicia looking especially sheepish. Professor Sprout straightened her pale yellow cloak and fixed them all with another searching look and then nodded. “Back to your House Table, Miss Spinnett. I will be speaking to Professor McGonagall about your behaviour.”

Alicia turned to go without another word. Professor Sprout waited a few seconds, watching Alicia to walk away before turning her attention back to Cedric and the others. 

“Professor,” Alfred began hastily, only to be cut off with a wave of Professor Sprout’s hand. “I don’t want to hear another word right now Mr Howard. All three of you are to go and wait outside my office until I arrive to speak with you. I hope you will use the time to reflect upon the appalling example you have just shown our visitors.”

The silence between the three of them as they descended the stairs was thick enough to cut with a knife. Cedric knew the other two were entirely innocent in all this and had definitely prevented him from earning himself a much worse punishment. His insides were roiling with an unpalatable mixture of guilt, anger and indignation.

Eventually they made it to the round wooden door in the sandstone cellar that served as Professor Sprout’s office. “So you did hex the kid.” Humphrey said levelly, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “It’s a pretty bad look, Ced.”

Cedric scowled at him, unable to come up with any real justification. His eventual justification of “He was winding me up.” Sounded hollow even to him. “Look, I just can’t let people say this stuff any more.”

Humphrey shrugged, pulled some Muggle gadget – a Yoyo – he’d called it, out of his pocket and began to play with it. Alfred didn’t show nearly as much patience.

“So, you looked like an idiot?” He began irritably. “What about the time I fell off my broom and the whole bloody school saw my lucky boxers. You didn’t see me acting like the Slytherin Mafia and hexing any fool that giggled.”

“Yeah, well your lucky boxers weren’t in the Daily Prophet.” Cedric retorted.

“I’m not going to argue with you about why it’s wrong to attack kids.” Alfred folded his arms. “Just pull your head in and don’t expect me to step in next time you want to act like a prat.”

They waited in mostly silence after this, punctuated by sighs and occasional glances at watches. Gaggles of other students passed them on the way to the Common Room. Some gave them curious looks whilst a few even ventured thumbs up. He caught the odd whispered conversation about ‘standing up to Gryffindor’ and ‘the real Champion’. By the time Professor Sprout arrived some twenty minutes later he was actually beginning to feel justified in having tried to hex Alicia in all her annoying, interfering little busybody-ness. 

He had been in Professor Sprout’s office a few times before but never for anything like this. It was a homely space, filled with light from the windows built into the hillside and various plants of significant rarity and interest to a keen Herbologist. Several armchairs competed for floor space with a large oaken desk, comfortable looking carved chair and stacks of books, parchment and a sprinkling of owl treats.  
Professor Sprout took her place behind the desk and gestured towards the armchairs. “Sit.” Once they were settled she peered at them keenly from across her desk. “Now explain to me what on earth possessed you to behave in such a manner. One at a time.” She added, when Humphrey and Alfred both began to speak at once.

Cedric sat sullenly as Alfred and Humphrey gave their version of how Alicia had marched over and shouted at Cedric before insulting him. Of course, they left out the particular reasons for Alicia’s sudden fury. His eyeroll when both of them confessed that they’d jumped on him to stop him hexing Alicia ‘and show a good example’ earned him another frown from Professor Sprout. When they had both exhausted any further words she let the silence sink in while she studied them all.

“I accept that the two of you were acting to help your friend and prevent the worst consequences of his poor judgement.” Cedric heard Alfred’s sigh of relief and waited for the ‘but’. “However, there is no excuse for involving yourself in such a display. You will serve detention with me this Saturday evening.”

“Professor,” Alfred began, “if we could make it Sunday, this Saturday is…”

“A Hogsmeade Weekend,” she nodded. “The detention stands Mr Howard. If both yourself and Mr Eame do not attract any further reports of bad behaviour I will allow you to go on the Sunday. Now, you may both go. I will speak to Mr Diggory on his own. I sincerely hope that I never have to speak to you in this office under such circumstances again.”

Professor Sprout stood up to show them out and then closed the door behind them and turned her attention back to him.

“Diggory,” She said kindly, “I have heard some very serious allegations concerning your conduct today.” Cedric, who had been expecting a verbal barrage, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure what to say to this. Professor Sprout seemed to take his silence as an answer in itself and continued. “Miss Spinnett tells me that you attacked a second year today. Is this true.”

Cedric nodded, watching one of the Peruvian Fairy Traps on the shelf above Professor Sprout’s desk catch a fly and snap shut; he wondered if being that fly would be preferable to being him right now in this moment. 

“I’m sure you’ll agree that this is very out of character for you. And a very poor example to the other students.” She paused, suddenly looking awkward. “I realise the last few months haven’t been easy for you. The…events…of the second task were extremely regrettable. I find myself wondering if perhaps we have let you down a little.”

At this Cedric finally looked Professor Sprout full in the face, looking for any sign that she wasn’t deadly serious. He was supposed to be having three strips torn off him right now and here she was apologising to him.

“Well, Professor,” he began slowly, “I did lose my temper and…”

“It was poor judgement,” she agreed, nodding emphatically, “but in the circumstances and given your previous good conduct; I have convinced Minerva not to involve the Headmaster.” She stopped herself there, seemingly aware that she had perhaps become too informal and gave an awkward little cough. “Look Diggory, we have to be seen to deal with this sort of thing.” She sighed. “But I refuse to jeopardise your chances in the tournament because of one or two moments of bad judgment. Still, I have to ask. Did you mean to hurt the Creevey boy?”

Yes; Cedric thought, recalling the boy’s pathetically snivelling. And then outloud, with the most regretful face he could summon. “No Professor, I only meant to scare him a little.”

“Good,” Professor Sprout nodded, looking relieved. “Now Minerva would have you writing lines for a month but, as I am your Head of House and give you are the School Champion I have determined that you will receive only a week’s detention.”

Cedric started forward in his chair, ready to do or say anything to avoid seven evenings of lines. He couldn’t lose that much preparation time.

“The detentions will be with Professor Moody,” continued Professor Sprout, “who has kindly agreed to personally tutor you in some advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. You may arrange the time and location with him.”

“Thanks Professor,” Cedric didn’t have to fake any of the relief and gratitude this time. “Am I excused?”

“Of course, Diggory,” she waved him away seemingly pleased to have the whole thing over with. “And Diggory,” she added as Cedric paused in the doorway. “Don’t let Potter distract you. You’re a credit to this school and to this house.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detentions with Professor Moody introduce Cedric to a way of thinking and a kind of magic he'd never before imagined.

Cedric received a note in his Arithmancy class the next morning from Professor Moody summoning him to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that evening at Six O’Clock. He told Alfred and Humphrey not to wait for him for supper and spent the afternoon buried in the Library working on his Alchemy essay.

  
At quarter to six he set off and arrived exactly on time to knock on the classroom door which swung open.

  
“Diggory,” Moody ushered him into the empty classroom with his usual twitchy air of suspicion. “No, don’t sit down boy. Ever heard of a Wizard winning a duel whilst sitting?” Moody spat in apparent disgust at this thought. “This will be a practical lesson.”

  
Cedric gave Moody a wary look and nodded. Moody had already made quite a reputation for himself; Cedric remembered hearing from Humphrey, who hoped to be an Auror, about the series of quite spectacular curses he had been able to demonstrate in the first of the NEWT lessons.

  
“You’re not in my class.” Moody said suddenly. “Didn’t think it was worth your time? Bet your regretting that, hmm?”

  
“My Father wants me to follow him into his Potions business, Sir.” Cedric answered as politely as he could.

  
“Interesting.” Moody continued with his fixed unwavering examination of Cedric, who rather felt like Moody could see right through any ruse Cedric cared to put in his way. “And what do you want to do? Not Potions I take it?”

  
“Well I – I wouldn’t mind trying out for a professional Quidditch side.” Cedric admitted. It felt like a boast but honestly he knew he had a pretty good shot if he worked at it. Losing an extra year to the tournament wouldn’t help but so had everyone else.

  
“Why?” Moody said bluntly.

  
Cedric felt wrong-footed. “Sir?”

  
“Why Quidditch? I’m interested in what drives you, Diggory.”

  
No one had ever asked him that before in his life. So far in life he’d just reacted to what came up in front of him and tried to do the right thing. “Well, I suppose I – I want to be…” he trailed off suddenly stuck for words as to how to describe it. “I want to be respected.”

  
Moody looked interested at that. “And your Father’s potions business is not respectable?”

  
“No, not like that Sir,” Cedric said quickly, “More that I don’t want to be my Father’s son. I want him to be my Father.”

  
“Ah,” Moody’s face twisted into something approximating a smile. “And that is why you put your name in the Goblet of Fire.”

  
“I suppose it is,” Cedric agreed, feeling a little surprised at learning something new about himself from someone he had never really spoken to.

  
Moody gave a satisfied grunt. “I know your sort. Good family, good blood and all of it wasted with nothing to pour your energy into.”

  
“Isn’t entering the tournament enough?” Cedric asked, wondering when they were going to get to the practical lesson that Moody had seemed so insistent that he have.

  
“Maybe,” Moody started lazily flicking his wand to clear a space in the centre of the room. “In any normal tournament I’d have my money on you. Still, this is not a normal tournament is it?”

  
“Potter.” Cedric said flatly. Of course Moody would have to bring up Potter who, not content with being the saviour of the whole Wizarding World whilst still in nappies, had now decided to steal the only real chance of fame Cedric had ever had in his life.

  
“Yes, the Second Task, that was very curious indeed. I suspect cheating however the Headmaster has absolutely forbidden any investigation. In any case,” he pulled up his sleeves to reveal veined and scared forearms. “I don’t think should’s and mights will help you win this tournament will they? One last thing before we begin.” Moody fixed him with another penetrating stare. “I intend to teach you some very nasty little curses. You must learn the curses to understand how to counter them. This can be difficult for some and I don’t need you having an attack of the moral fibres half way through.”

  
“Is this because you think I’m in Hufflepuff and can’t handle anything that isn’t fluffy?” Cedric muttered sarcastically and then at Moody’s raised eyebrow added “Sir – I want to win this thing. I want to learn.”

  
Moody seemed to want to test him and Cedric, with nothing to lose and everything to prove, was eager to take in as much as he could. Over the next several hours Moody demonstrated curses that Cedric had never even imagined. The most impressive had to have been the deadly destructive flames that had raged around the classroom under rigid and total control, lighting every candle but otherwise touching nothing. Cedric was enthralled. When Moody eventually paused Cedric shook his head in disbelief.

  
“If I’d have known this is what we’d study I’d have taken your NEWT class in a hearbeat.”

  
Moody’s gash of a mouth cracked in another rictus of a grin. “This isn’t NEWT level boy, this is a lifetime of living and breathing the study of magic that most Wizards are too afraid to touch upon.”

  
“I’m not afraid of it.” Cedric said stubbornly. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  
“We’ll see,” Moody said cryptically, “I think we’ll finish off with one last curse. If you can cast it then I will spend as much time tutoring you as you desire. If not, well I am certain you are capable of marking the first and second year essays for me.”

  
Cedric was only prepared for what came next because of the gossip that had spread around the school like wildfire in the first few weeks of term. Moody first transfigured a large button into a spider and then engorged it.

  
“Cruciatus.” Moody spoke the name of the curse like his Father might talk about a rare potion ingredient. “The key here is intention.”

  
“So,” Cedric regarded the spider with some scepticism. “I have to want to hurt it?”

  
“Not in such a specific sense. You have to want to use the curse, to know its purpose and at the same time to desire the outcome it produces.”

  
Did he want to hurt something? True he had been angry and hurt but did that give him an excuse for wanting inflict pain on someone else? Of course it didn’t. That was obvious. Still, the thought of trying something so forbidden felt tempting. And it wasn’t like it was a human being. It was just a spider. He’d been feeling guilty for wanting to get revenge for weeks and now here was a wide open invitation to not only acknowledge his feelings but put them to a powerful magical use. Moody wanted him to desire suffering, fine. He set his jaw, picturing the crowd howling with laughter as he dangled helplessly in the air.

  
“Crucio.”

  
Cedric felt like he was watching himself from the outside. The magic flowed easily in a line of liquid darkness from his wand. The spider, expanded to the size of a hedgehog for the purpose of this test twitched and writhed from what looked like wave after wave of agony.

  
“Curious.” Moody’s interjection dragged Cedric back to himself and he drew in a sharp breath. The spider lay motionless on the floor, it’s legs already curling inwards. It was dead. “I may have under-estimated you.” Moody continued, vanishing the dead spider. “You show extraordinary ability.”

  
Cedric shook his head emphatically. “It’s Dark Magic. I…I shouldn’t…” I shouldn’t have enjoyed it the way that I did. He finished the last of the sentence silently in his head.

  
“There is no such thing as light or dark magic, boy.” Moody was animated now, his gestures less jerky and more fluid. “Magic is magic. A spell is a spell.”

  
“But Dark Magic…it hurts people.”

  
“The hex that brought you here today but a boy in the hospital wing.” Moody shot back. “Does that make you a Dark Wizard?”

  
Cedric laughed before he could stop himself. “Not the last time I checked.”

  
“Any spell if used improperly can hurt or even kill. A poorly trained healer can end the life of a patient with a charm explicitly meant to save them.”

  
“But…” Cedric frowned trying to find the words to express himself. “But if you want to use them for the wrong reasons then that’s got to be bad?”

  
“Ahh,” Moody’s fist punctuated his exclamation with a hard bang on the desk. “And there you have it. The centre of the argument. What reasons can we give for our actions? Can they be justified? For example, is it moral to kill?”

  
“No,” Cedric said straight away, that was easily clear. “Except…well if you’re protecting someone or its in self defense.”

  
“And what if you weren’t just protecting yourself? What if you were protecting people you loved?”

  
“Well, I suppose I would.” Cedric admitted.

  
“Let us scale this out further. Imagine there are a group of people who harm society. Killing them might save countless lives and benefit everyone. Would you murder to prevent a greater evil? Would you harm the few in order to benefit the many?”Cedric nodded his agreement. A whole new world of possibility seeming to unfurl before him.

  
“So what you’re saying is – is that the outcome is what matters, the aim. If you have proper intentions then you are morally justified to act.”

  
“You’re a bright boy, Diggory,” Moody said, studying him with intense interest. “It seems those essays are destined for someone else. I will see you back here tomorrow evening at the same time.”

  
Cedric walked out of Moody’s office feeling lighter than he had in weeks. There was so much to think about, to learn and to explore in an area he never had expected to find such interest. And the way Moody had spoken to him. For the first time since the second task he felt like he mattered and was taken seriously by someone.

  
The feeling of lightness lasted for about three flights of stairs before he ran into a group of Gryffindors headed for one of the towers. Each whisper, each giggle might as well have been a physical blow. He turned around to glare at them and for one fleeting second they fell silent before a snotty Irish kid yelled out: “What are you doing up here, Diggory, come to get some winning tips from Potter?”

  
“Fuck off.” Cedric snapped and stomped by them, doing his best to ignore the chorus of ‘oohs’ and more giggles which were adding to his urge to hit something. Right about that moment a knot of Ravenclaws passed by, one of them, a boy Cedric recognised but had never spoke to, was wearing a Potter Stinks badge.

  
“Hey you,” Cedric pointed at him and then to the badge. “Give me that.”

  
The boy, tall and lanky with curly dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, looked him over cooly before unpinning the badge and handing it to Cedric who jammed the pin through his own robes with relish.  
“He’s not going to win you know.” Cedric yelled out to the crowd. “You watch, he’s going to fail.” It was a pointless and stupid thing to do he knew but he didn’t care. New badge in place he made his way back to the Common Room. It didn’t take anyone very long to notice his new choice of attire.

  
“I thought you said you weren’t going to wear those things?” Alfred commented, nodding towards the badge.

  
“Changed my mind.” Cedric shrugged and slumped into an empty armchair.

  
“And don’t try and talk our Diggers out of it.” Humphrey smiled. “He’s much more interesting to the ladies when he’s all moody and rebellious.”

  
“Which explains why you never got any girls, Humpy.” Alfred shot back quick as a flash.

  
Cedric laughed for what felt like the first time in weeks at the mock offended look plastered across Humphrey’s face and then matched the glint of mischief as Humphrey fired back. “So how come you’re not fighting them off with a stick?”

  
“Ha bloody ha ha,” Alfred grinned at his friend and turned back to Cedric. “So how was detention?”

  
Cedric was stuck for how to explain. He had known Alfred and Humphrey since they were kids. Aside from his parents they probably knew him better than anyone else in the entire world. Even knowing that they had stuck by him through all the rubbish and mockery he couldn’t bring himself to tell them how struck he had been by the way Moody had spoken to him today and how he had felt when he’d cast that first curse. At the very best Humphrey would suggest he move a few dungeons over to the left and at the very worst they might try to stop him learning more.

  
“Just – making me study stuff.” He shrugged. “For the final task I guess.”

  
“Doesn’t seem fair though,” Alfred mused. “You’d think that Professor Sprout would have given you worse.”

  
“Well the world isn’t fair is it?” Cedric retorted. “Anyway, I’ve had to give up every free evening I had this week.

”  
Ever the peace keeper Humphrey stepped in at that point to suggest a game of exploding snap and the three of them settled down to a solid evening of trying to singe each other’s eyebrows.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric uses the Dark Arts willingly for the first time.

The first detention with Professor Moody, and the revelations it had brought with it became, in Cedric’s mind at least, a sort of before and after moment in his life. To the outside world the angry young man who had stomped the halls of the school after his humiliating second task was again returned to Cedric ‘Hufflepuff extraordinaire’ Diggory. For Cedric and Professor Moody the truth was something entirely different. He found himself on edge to go back to do more magic, try new spells and craving the feeling that the sheer power of the spells gave him. What was better was that he was making progress.

The one person who hadn’t appreciated his new dedication to studies had been Cho. She had been the last person he expected to object to learning and exploring but when he had alluded indirectly to the benefits of learning dark curses in order to counter them she had responded sharply that he shouldn’t even think about it and to do so was a dangerous path.

Later that evening at his now three times weekly practice with Professor Moody Cedric found himself relating the incident.

“…and then she starts lecturing me about forces I don’t understand and how Wizards are no better than any other sentient being.” 

“Magic is a gift,” Moody responded thoughtfully. “And endows those so gifted with responsibilities.”

“It isn’t fair is it?” Cedric said indignantly, “I could do so much and yet I have to hide my whole life. Wizards shouldn’t be ashamed. We should be able to show our power. We could help the Muggles.”

Moody’s head tilted. “We could. We could save them much suffering and yet we prevent ourselves.”

“For no good reason.” Cedric sent a bolt of blue light at one of the practice dummies, turning it into nothing but dust and then, feeling reckless added: “I mean, if I wanted to I could Imperio the Muggle Primeminster.”

Moody nodded in approval and vanished the remains of the dummy. “You have mastered Decimara. I believe you now have the ability to attempt Inferari. As for your comments on the leader of the Muggles. It is true you could. Why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to go to Azkaban.” The answer came out, flippant and dismissive, before he even had time to really reflect on it. It had been the first thought in his head. He felt an uncomfortable twist at how selfish it sounded.

“That’s a very interesting answer, Mr Diggory. A very interesting answer indeed. We shall return to politics once you can successfully contain and repel my curse. Now prepare yourself.”

Cedric felt his feet slide backwards as the force of Moody’s next attack crashed against his shield charm. This was perhaps his favourite part of the lessons, getting to really let loose and as far as possible duel on equal footing with someone as skilled and experienced as Moody. Being in good physical condition was something that Moody had insisted Cedric focus on and he had to make use of every bit of his Quidditch reflexes in dodging the Constricter Curse that Moody had ended their last duel with. He’d thought about that, planned and now he was ready. He rolled to the left, distracted Moody with a burst of brightly coloured smoke and then –

His arm felt warm as the heat streamed out of his wand. It would be easy to be lost in this. Many Wizards had died attempting what he was doing now. He knew that but he couldn’t care. He had to focus, to control himself or the flames he was wielding would rage through this room in a second. He cast a bright leaping loop of flames around himself and kept them there, dragon heads snapping at flickering tails of flame.  
He could have watched them here like this for hours but he’d made his point. Silently and efficiently he ended the spell and gave Moody a triumphant smile. He had done it. The next second he found himself hoisted upside down. He hung for one sickening moment before dropping face first onto the floor.

Moody’s harsh bark of laughter filled the classroom and Cedric got up and dusted himself off. “And that, Mr Diggory, is why you never show off in a duel. Still, you have impressed me. You show impressive clear-headedness under pressure. Next time we shall discuss resisting efforts to confuse and befuddle your mind. Shall we say the usual time on Wednesday.”

Cedric nodded and began to pack up his things, already looking forward to more things he could learn to put up a better fight in the last and rapidly approaching task.

“One more thing,” Moody sat behind his large Mahogany desk. “You are eager for discussion of politics. I want you to explain to me in two rolls of parchment why Wizards do not rule the world, Mr Diggory. A successful answer will earn you ten points to Hufflepuff.”

“What’s a successful answer?” Cedric asked curiously.

“The one you come to on your own.” Moody said cryptically and then began to scratch his quill over some parchment. The lesson was over.

The following evening was a Tuesday and as usual Cedric had arranged to meet with Cho. He didn’t want to blow her off but at the same time his mind was giddy with his recent achievements and the final task looming the weekend after next. Still, things had been nearly back to normal after the incident with the Creevy kid and he wanted to spend some time with her. In the end he opted for an evening picnic by the lake and took some of the history books on the Statute of Secrecy with him. 

The evening had actually gone very well, Cedric had taken advantage of a friendly House Elf to skip dinner in the Hall and have a perfectly packed meal of cheese, grapes and bread rolls still warm from the oven. He’d been enjoying a quiet session of kissing and considering if he’d have much chance of getting any further before Cho had settled down to conjure them some dancing lights for once the sun set and he’d taken the time to read an extra few pages of the book which had proven to be a lot more interesting than he’d ever considered.

“Did you know that Muggles used to actually burn us?” Cedric wrinkled his nose in disgust as he closed the book and set it aside. “Why would anyone act that way?”

“More importantly, why are you reading that stuff?” Cho’s fingers brushed over his as she drew his attention back to her. 

He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “I guess I’m curious. Professor Moody asked me to write him an essay.”

“On the history of Witch Burning?” Cho frowned. “That’s a bit outside of his area isn’t it?”

“He’s got a lot of world experience.” Cedric said a little defensively. “He doesn’t just know about the Dark Arts. Besides it’s not just about Witch Burning. It’s about Muggles and why we live in secret.”

Cho rolled her eyes. “Don’t become one of those idiots who start saying things about ‘caring for Muggles’ everyone knows that’s just another way of saying you think Wizards are more important.”

Cedric put the book down firmly and sat up. “No, it isn’t! Thinking that the Statute of Secrecy isn’t all sunshine and rainbows doesn’t make me a blood supremacist.”

She shook her head and shuffled back away. “I don’t think you should be spending so much time with Professor Moody. You’ve only started saying this sort of thing since you did.”

“Saying what sort of thing?” Cedric felt the familiar snap of anger flaring. “My best friend is a Muggleborn. How could I be a Supremacist?”

“I’m not saying you are, Ced.” Cho said gently, “I’m just saying that you’ve changed since February. I liked you the way you were.”

“Well I like me now.” He retorted. “If you don’t want to see me feeling more confident and achieving something of worth then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? That wasn’t what I was..”

“Maybe you should just cheer for Potter instead?” Of all his friends, Cho was the only one who had refused to wear the Potter Stinks badges that Cedric had obtained from the Malfoy kid. “Especially since you enjoyed your dance with him so much.”

“Right.” Cho got to her feet, the lights she had been conjuring winking out leaving them in the semi darkness of dusk. “That’s it then. If…” her voice faltered and hitched only slightly. “If you pull yourself out of this then come and find me again.”

With that said, she turned on her heel and hurried away back up to the school. Cedric felt angrier than he could ever recall feeling in his life. Right then at that moment a thought struck him with a vicious boiling anticipation. Checking around him to see if anyone else had heard or seen what had just happened and finding himself suitably alone, he set off for the edge of the forest.

He knew there were a nest of Gnomes there from overhearing Professor Hagrid complaining loudly to Professor Sprout about it over dinner earlier that week. They were easy to find. Right between the Niffler pens and the henhouses. A lumpy misshapen head peered up at him and stuck it’s tongue out. Cedric picked it up by its hair and studied it with dispassionate curiosity as it writhed and kicked spitting Gnomish curses at him in a high piping voice.

Something about the look in Cedric’s eyes must have frightened it though because right before the silencing charm hit it looked like it was going to cry for help.

“Crucio.”

It was easier to see the effect of the curse on a being more akin to a human than a spider. The little creature twitched and spasmed, the cords of tendons in its throat bulging out as it tried to scream. It was strange how he could cause so much pain so effortlessly. He wished that he could do this to all the people who had laughed at him, belittled him and taunted him. He bet they’d beg for forgiveness then.

“Vermin.” Cedric spat as he lifted the curse, letting the Gnome start to crawl away before he gave it another blast of the Cruciatus. “Fucking vermin.”

He kept at it until he felt some of the anger leave him. It had been good practice to do this, he decided, avoiding looking down at the shaking body of the gnome at his feet. His head felt clearer now. If he hurried, he’d be able to get back to the Common Room and work on his essay a little more before bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric completes his final preparations for the third task.

“Better off without her, mate.” Alfred said consolingly when he let them know about the break up the next morning at breakfast. “Figured it had gone well when you didn’t come back. I’d have sneaked up some celebration drinks if I’d known.”

“I thought you liked her,” Humphrey added, buttering his toast. 

“I did,” Cedric sighed. He was feeling drained and tired and was trying to convince himself it was because of his late-night reading. The torture of the gnome seemed like a bad dream. “Until she started ragging on me for wanting to actually win.”

“You will win it,” Humphrey said confidently. “We’ll come around to yours and celebrate in the summer and next season you and Alfred will be back at Quidditch and that professional contract will be yours.”

It was a comforting vision to contemplate but still looked strange without Cho in it. He headed off to Transfiguration still feeling a little empty. Alfred and Humphrey had Ancient Runes and normally Cedric would have sat with Cho who shared this class. She didn’t even acknowledge him as she came in and took a desk near the front. He felt a rising stab of irritable defensiveness when one of the other Ravenclaw 6th years took her seat instead, already prepared for a lecture from the boy that he didn’t know.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” the boy gave him a tight wary smile. “I’m Fawley, Sebastian Fawley.”

Cedric shook the hand offered to him, studying the blue eyes and curly brown hair framing a sharply boned face and then suddenly placing the face to the name. “You’re the guy with the badge.”

“Yes,” Fawley said with a lazy drawl, nodding to the badge on his chest “I managed to obtain another fairly easily.”

Fawley was one of the dozens of students in Cedric’s year who he’d never really got to know properly. The Houses made it harder of course but as they moved on from taking notes on the complicated process of elemental transfiguration to actually attempting it, Cedric began to wish he’d met him sooner. Sebastian was funny in a dry sort of way and there was a preciseness to his spell work that made Cedric a little jealous.

“I’d have thought you’d not want to talk to me after…” Cedric nodded towards the front of the class and Cho’s back.

“You’d think that wouldn’t you,” Sebastian commented. “Though House Loyalty means very little in the long run and I pride myself of not following the crowd. That and I was impressed by your stand against Potter.”

“Dumbledore’s pet.” Cedric muttered, echoing some of the nastier sentiments that the Slytherins had been putting around.

“Dumbledore is just the surface.” Sebastian nodded. “There is a lot wrong with this world that could be fixed by people with the right ideas and the courage to put them into practice. Potter is the symbol of all of that. Why people call him a saviour is beyond me. He’s over-rated.”

“Exactly,” Cedric was about to dive into the argument he’d decided to make in his essay for Moody when he realised that in their enthusiasm, they’d completely missed Professor McGonagall standing right in front of them. She fixed them both with a look which radiated disapproval.

“Mr Diggory, you may be exempt from end of year examinations but if you expect to succeed in your N.E.W.Ts then I expect you to do me the courtesy of paying attention in my class.”

“Sorry Professor,” Cedric muttered, feeling a flare of resentment at being told off like a child.

“Now,” she continued, “please demonstrate to me the sublimation of water into fire.”

Thankfully he managed it without missing a beat. She nodded in satisfaction. “A point to Hufflepuff, Diggory, for competent execution. Pay more attention next time.”

For the rest of the lesson they confined themselves to brief whispered exchanges and grins. At the end of the two hours Cedric felt like he’d missed out on a friendship he could have enjoyed for the last six years quite comfortably. He went back to the common room to meet up with Alfred and Humphrey for lunch who were full of complaints about future perfect prophetic tenses already starting to look forward to tonight’s practice with Professor Moody.

When Fawley caught his eye from the far side of Ravenclaw’s table he waved back, a gesture that was not missed by Humphrey.

“Things better with Cho?”

Cedric wrinkled his nose in confusion. “Oh, nah – no I got talking to Sebastian Fawley in Transfiguration. That’s him there,” he added pointing out Sebastian at the Ravenclaw table.

Humphrey looked mildly impressed. “Fawley? Isn’t his Dad really high up in the Ministry?”

“I’m not sure really?” Cedric shrugged, “we didn’t really talk about family. You ever talked to him, Alf?”

“Ha, no…” Alfred was taking blissful delight in a Ham Sandwich so thick it could probably have featured as a door stop. “I tried once when we got partnered in Herbology. Asked me who my parents were and when I said they were in I.T he acted like I was beneath his notice.”

“Oh,” Humphrey looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, you know what those old families are like. I mean, wanting to put the Wizards first and stuff.”

“Still,” Cedric sat back and surveyed his two friends. “It’s not unreasonable for us to want to look after ourselves is it?”

“No,” Humphrey said cautiously. “The trouble is when people want to put limits of who ‘ourselves’ refers to.”

“Anyone who is magical of course.” Cedric said with mild exasperation. “Well magical and wants to keep the old traditions alive. It wouldn’t be very fun if Quidditch died out because everyone wanted to follow those Muggle games they play with balls and things.”

Alfred gave an awkward chuckle. “Just because you don’t understand Rugby, Ced, doesn’t make it a threat to all of Wizard Kind.”

After that the conversation drifted back towards what kind of sports were better and their usual banter about any sport which contained Hookers having to have at least some benefit. No one really wanted to go   
and spend their free lesson doing work but they all knew they needed to and all three of them reluctantly made their way towards the Library where they stayed in dogged study interspersed with occasional enchanted paper aeroplanes.

At Seven O’Clock that evening he knocked promptly on Professor Moody’s classroom door, essay in hand and heart thumping nervously. Moody had been known as a firm opponent of Dark Magic throughout his whole career and indeed had sacrificed limbs to his crusade against it. Writing an essay like the one in his hand was a risky move, in some ways riskier than successfully conjuring a powerful dark spell in front of your Professor. Even so, Cedric had an inkling that this might yet pay off.

Moody sat down at his desk, Cedric’s essay in hand, took a swig from his hip flask and began to read. Cedric sat in awkward anticipation watching the play of facial expressions across Moody’s features; surprise and then a frown interspersed with the odd and extremely reassuring nod.

“Competently argued, Diggory,” Moody said finally, “and if I might add bravely argued as well. Not many would dare to say what you have just said.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Cedric said, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“The important question is do you believe it.”

“Well,” Cedric chewed on his bottom lip thinking about how to answer that question. “I think that it’s not wrong to focus on our own kind first. I think that Muggleborns should have to integrate properly and not disrespect the gifts they have been granted.”

“You should think about a future in politics, boy.” Moody cracked a disturbing grin. “You’re certainly wasted on Potions. The Ministry needs more clear-thinking Wizards with the proper background. Too many woolly-headed reformers putting us in danger of losing that which makes us special.”

“It’s like you say, Sir, no magic should be feared. It’s stupid to restrict the study of so-called Dark Magic because you’re afraid.”

“Exactly.” Moody nodded sharply. “You have been my best pupil, Diggory. In fact I plan to recommend to Dumbledore that you be allowed to attempt the N.E.W.T examination after the final task. I believe that you would pass with ease.”

Cedric grinned with a rush of pride. “Really, Sir? A year ahead?”

“Of course,” Moody’s cloak swirled behind him as he energetically set about preparing the practice area. “You are more than prepared. Indeed I expect a sterling performance from you in the upcoming task. Have you been briefed by the Judges yet?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, Sir.”

“I have been asked to assist with the final preparation of the task,” Moody said. “Which means tonight was your last lesson with me before the event itself.” He was looking at Cedric with a strange sort of intensity that left a prickle of something running down Cedric’s spine. “Everything will be different once it is done.”

“You mean without the pressure?” Cedric asked a little hesitantly.

“Yes,” and the strangeness abruptly vanished from Moody’s bearing. “I believe I have prepared you very well for what will come. Shall we begin?”

The sense of disorientation as the floor seemed to shift beneath him was extremely disconcerting. He’d read up on this and focused on maintaining his shield until Moody’s attack relented and then, in the mere fraction of a second before Moody could prepare, got in his own jinx which, to his deep satisfaction, hit home. Red blood soaked through the robe of Moody’s arm and the former Auror laughed in appreciation. 

“Good reflexes.”

They paused after that for a brief healing spell and then began again. Moody had stopped treating him lightly and in the last few weeks had begun to send some truly unpleasant attacks his way. Cedric found he relished in the conflict and the sense it brought of flying on the edge and living by your wits and skill. This was better than Quidditch.

Cedric was breathing heavily by the time Moody finally decreed the lesson over and could feel the sweat soaking through his robes. 

“You have done well. It has been my honour to see you grow these past three months, Diggory. I wish you well in the final task. Know that I will be watching for you.”

*

Cedric saw the maze for the first time the following evening. He walked behind the other three champions, contemplating how easy it would be to hex any one of them into oblivion. Especially Potter, a foot shorter than both he and Krum and still swaggering about as if he owned the whole school. And then to rub salt into his already stinging and bleeding grudge, Potter smiled at him. He couldn’t bring himself to smile back and settled for pretending he hadn’t noticed him.

He turned his attention back to Mr Bagman.

“The cup will be placed at the centre of the maze, each of you will start according to your standings. Mr Potter, in first place will go first and so on until we reach Mr Diggory here.” 

Fleur Delacour tossed her blonde hair and flashed a dazzling smile at Bagman and the other ministry officials. “Do we know yet what challenges we will face?” 

Bagman seemed about ready to spill the beans there and then but seemed to catch himself just in time.

“I’m not sure that would be quite in the spirit of the competition, Miss Delacour,” Bagman gave her a smile that Cedric guessed had meant to be Fatherly but hit more of the creepy Uncle than anything else. “All I will say is that your teachers and the judges have consulted carefully to set a number of magical challenges for you to overcome. Err…now – ah Harry, wonderful to see you could you come over here for just a moment…”

Cedric stared down at the maze. On Saturday he would enter it and he would win. He ignored the mutter of voices of Krum, Potter and Bagman having some sort of conversation over in the corner of the Quidditch stand and turned to the officious looking young Wizard with red hair. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Oh don’t bother young Weasley here,” Bagman squeezed himself back into the conversation. “There is nothing else to worry about, we will have teachers patrolling the edges of the maze and if at any point you find yourselves unable to continue simply fire red sparks into the air and we will come and retrieve you.”

“I don’t plan on being ‘retrieved’” Cedric set his jaw. “I’m going to win this.”

“Splendid, splendid,” Bagman patted him amiably on the shoulder, “certainly I hope you do well. Must remain neutral of course but a Gry-Hogwarts champion would be splendid wouldn’t it?”

Cedric smiled tightly. “Excuse me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have been writing this (and as I type it's current 27500 words long I've become very interested in radicalisation and the politics underlying the Wizarding world which I plan on getting too later on in the fic. Despite a few continuity errors and some bent existing canon I am really enjoying writing this. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea so if you are reading this thank you :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric's parents visit before the last task. Cedric enters the maze.

Over the remaining three days before the tournament Cedric tried once again to ignore all distractions and drains on his time and energy. He let people wish him luck and kept himself to himself apart from the company of Alfred and Humphrey. He found that as long as he kept his newly developing politics to himself, they were able to rub along as comfortably as they had ever done. The three of them had planned to take some brooms out, well he and Alfred would do the flying, Humphrey would do the throwing, as part of one last relaxation before his victory.

He was in Charms when the lesson was interrupted by a first year boy in Slytherin House colours who came with a message that his parents were here.

“Ced,” his Father boomed and enveloped him in a crushing hug. “How are you, son? We’ve been worried about you.”

His Mother beamed up and him and he bent to let her kiss him on the cheek. “Hi Mum, Dad…what are you doing here?”

“Got invited up to watch the last task.” His Dad’s smile was wide enough to look painful. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. My boy, Hogwarts Champion. Never been so proud of you.” At that his Dad cast a very unpleasant look in the direction of Harry Potter, who was being embraced by a motherly looking red haired witch who had to be Mrs Weasley.“I tell you it was hard to take, reading all those articles about that boy and not one mention of you. And to think he seemed so polite at the World Cup.”

Of course it hadn’t been Harry Potter’s fault. Cedric had known that at the time and still did. Potter was an arrogant little idiot but he wasn’t a liar and Rita Skeeter was hardly known for her fair and balanced coverage. 

“Then at work,” his Dad continued, “well – suddenly everyone was very keen to know all about you. Only after someone made a fool of you of course. Should have been a review, why wasn’t there a review?”

“I don’t know.” Cedric muttered, the initial pleasant glow of seeing his parents was rapidly being replaced with a crushing embarrassment. “Just stop, Dad. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Now Dear,” His Mum laid a warning hand on his Dad’s arm and at last the tirade seemed to abate. “Ced can’t help what happened and tomorrow is a new day. He’ll have his chance to prove himself. Not that we aren’t already very proud of you, dear.” His Mum added in his direction.

“Yeah.” Cedric muttered. “Thanks.”

“Why don’t you show us around?” His Mother suggested. “Perhaps Alfred and Humphrey would like to come back into Hogsmeade with us tonight. We have rooms in the Three Broomsticks and it would be nice to see you and your friends.”

“It is good to see the old place,” his Dad agreed. “Do you remember that room on the 7th floor full of…”

“Amos,” his Mum said sharply and began to blush and was rescued by the arrival of Professor Sprout. “Ah Pomona, we were just asking Cedric and his friends to Dinner tonight at the Three Broomsticks. I assume you have no objections?”

“Of course, of course. None at all.” Professor Sprout nodded agreeably. “But you must come to the Feast tomorrow to celebrate the end of the Tournament.”

Pleasantries over with Cedric began to lead his parents away to look around the school.

Cedric wondered if he would ever want to come back to Hogwarts once his time here was over. Up until this year he’d always felt comfortable here but now things felt different. He took his parents through the best parts of the school, the view from the Astronomy Tower, the Great Hall and the long galleries lining each of the floors. Neither of them opted to come into the Common Room, something for which he was secretly grateful.

Humphrey and Alfred were both grateful for any excuse to get out of school at the moment. The 6th years were under especial pressure at the moment with the upcoming end of year exams and it made the whole common room a bit of a hotbed of frayed tempers and occasional breakdowns.

Madame Rosmerta had pulled out all the stops for the visit of a Hogwarts Champion and insisted on Cedric and his friends eating for free. This seemed to go a long way in mollifying his Dad who was soon engaged in an enthusiastic discussion with Alfred about Viktor Krum and his flying strategy.

“Goes on about you being overshadowed, ignores you to talk about another school’s champion.” Humphrey muttered in his ear, giving Cedric a friendly nudge. Cedric rolled his eyes and put on a smile that didn’t fool his mother at all.

“Things have been okay, haven’t they Ced?” His Mum gave him an anxious look.

“I’m fine,” Cedric insisted keeping the bite of irritation only barely under control, “why won’t you listen?”

“Because she’s your Mum.” Alfred smiled. “And you have been a bit of an idiot over it all but we still like you.”

Cedric saw his Mum’s gaze flick down to the ‘Potter Stinks’ badge on his robes and folded his arms. “I’m keeping it on.”

“You’re not an angry boy, Ced. You’ve always been such a kind person, this – well it isn’t like you.”

“It’s just a bit of banter, Mum.” Cedric said, sounding insincere even to himself. “Just let it go.”

His Dad picked that moment to re-enter the conversation and Cedric was able to fade back into enjoying their company once again. He didn’t need criticism right now, especially from someone who had hardly seen him for the last six years. It would be easier, far easier if they’d just let him do what he needed to do and support him in it without putting so much pressure on him.

They said goodbye as the light faded and he, Humphrey and Alfred made their way back up the long drive from the gates of the School. 

“Your Dad is really nice,” Humphrey commented. “And he knows loads about Potions. He says we might be able to room together if I get the pass selection for the Aurorship. Imagine us both in London. We’d have so much fun. Alfred could take us out in London to party with the Muggles.”

”Yeah,” Cedric murmured, only half listening as he gazed into the direction of the Gnome nest, wondering if he’d get another chance to go back.

Alfred was now talking about being set on getting a job decoding Ancient Manuscripts in the Receptory which would place all three of them in London. Cedric thought about telling them what Moody had said to him about politics but decided he’d keep that to himself until after the tournament. Alfred wouldn’t understand anyway, Muggleborns never did appreciate politics or what it really meant to be a Wizard. You had to grow up with that.

“We’ll be cheering for you tomorrow,” Alfred yawned from his bunk bed after they’d made it back to the Cellars and the cosy sanctuary of Hufflepuff House. “And after that everything can go back to normal like it was before.”

Cedric stared sleeplessly up at the slats of the bedframe above his head and wondered how Alfred could ever expect things to be the same again after this. He heard the School bell toll midnight and after that he must have fallen asleep.

*

Days like the one of the final Task always seemed to Cedric that they should feel more special, around him the rest of the school simply seemed to be getting on with their day. People gossiped over break ups, Quidditch results and who was talking to who about what Esmelda had done in the girls bathroom last week. There was a buzz of excitement sure but the sheer weight of the moment just seemed to pass people by. 

“Want us to walk down with you?” Alfred offered as they tucked into a generous cooked breakfast.

Cedric nodded, forcing down food even as his stomach flipped butterflies. He’d regret it later if he didn’t eat so he made himself. No one had said how long the maze would take but he hoped it would all be over by late afternoon so he could finally breathe and take stock. Then there was how to thank Professor Moody, probably by passing that N.E.W.T

“Alright,” he said finally, setting down his cutlery. “Let’s get this done.”

He hadn’t been nervous before the first two tasks but now on his way down to the last one he had to fight down a vague sense of panic. It was stupid. He was better prepared than he had been against anything that had come before but still, what if they laughed again? No, something inside him flared hot at that thought, they wouldn’t laugh and if they tried then he would make them sorry.

The walk down to the pitch seemed to go much more quickly than normal and then as Humphrey and Alfred turned right, Cedric turned left and was ushered away into a tent where the Champions would wait until it was time for them to come out and begin.

Harry Potter was sat in the corner gazing around at the much older and more capable students around him looking, as he had all along, completely out of place. They caught one-another’s eye and Cedric, shorn of any public need to play along, did not return Potter’s smile. Krum, as always, was scowling and pacing his round-shouldered walk back and forth and Fleur was looking haughty. 

“All here, excellent,” Bagman burst into the tense silence like a fire cracker, rubbing his hands in delighted anticipation. “Come along then. Oh my this is going to be just wonderful. You will all do splendidly.”

The maze looked bigger up close than it had from the height of the Quidditch stands. The Hedges had to be twelve feet tall at least. Cedric looked up at the sky, taking quick stock of which direction the shadows fell in to work out which direction he needed to go. One by one the other Champions entered the maze, he couldn’t prevent one last exasperated glance towards the Ludo Bagman who at last blew his whistle and Cedric surged forward.

The sound of the crowd dropped away almost instantly in a way that suggested some fairly intricate spell work. If he’d had any time to think about it he could probably have worked it out but there wasn’t time.

He glanced up at the sky again, took note of the shadows and began to make his way along the right hand path, every sense alert and straining. Somewhere in the distance he heard a yell and the thump of something that sounded like a body hitting the ground. 

“One down.” He muttered to himself and pushed on.

The Skewt caught him by surprise, blasting fire across his shoulder that seared in a painful burn. He fired three quick stunners at it and only on the third did it even slow. He dodged the next jet of flame and on instinct cast his own burst of flames in reply which resulted in a very satisfying explosion and a scream from the Skrewt which turned and slammed down it’s stinger only inches from his head. If he didn’t work out how to kill this thing he was going to lose on the first obstacle. Spells ran through his mind like file cards until he set on one that would probably do enough damage.

“Sectumsempra.” 

He laughed in delight as the stinger was sheered clean off and gushes of yellow fluid began to pump out of the thing’s dying body. He cast the curse again a few more times for good measure and then kicked the remains. His shoulder hurt as he moved it and he cast a temporary healing spell to protect the worst of it and pressed on.

Around the next several corners he was attacked by a Grindylow in a patch of marsh and had to work out how to pass over a chasm spanning some forty feet across. That had been a clever challenge and it had taken all the courage he had simply to walk out across it and ignore the illusion for what it was.

He rounded a bend and did a double take as he came face to face with himself. Well, it wasn’t quite himself. His double was older and looked worn and tired. Then Cedric registered what he was wearing. ‘Diggory’s Apothecary and Potions’ was stitched into the badge on the bright yellow robes. Was this supposed to be his future? He felt a shiver of fear and desperation at the idea and then in a flash realised what was happening.

“Riddikulus!”

The boggart transformed into his Father, tripped over the long robes and sat down on its backside in the mud. Cedric chuckled and then hurried past trying to shrug off the idea that his worst fear was becoming the man he had just seen.

He must be getting close to the centre of the maze now. Ahead he could see a flush of blue sparks and a yell of pain. The voice was too low to be Fleur. He had hoped it was Potter until he came across the motionless body of Krum. He debated for a fraction of a second and then reached down to take the other boy’s wand and shoot the signal for help into the air.

Then he saw it. 

The cup was there only sixty feet away. His heart gave a great leap in his chest and he set off running. Then from behind him came a shout of warning.

“Cedric! On your left!”

He turned around only long enough to catch a glimpse of Potter. He hadn’t seen the spider bearing down on him and by the time he did it was too late. It took him at full speed barrelling into him and sending them both rolling in the dust. He hit the far side of the hedge only just maintaining his grip on his wand. The spider had regathered faster than Cedric and he only just got his shield up in time to hear the awful skittering sound of its legs against the barrier.

The eyes. Krum had beaten a Dragon like that, surely a spider couldn’t be too much different.

Spiders had more eyes than a Dragon of course but it didn’t make much difference when all of them were burning from being covered in acid. Conjuctivitis was a tame curse and he wasn’t interested in tame curses any more. He blasted the spider aside and broke into a run but it was too late.

He was thirty feet away when he saw Harry Potter seize hold of the cup and disappear.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you learn the man you admired is a follower of Dark Magic? A conversation with Dumbledore and the revelation that Voldemort has returned.

He pulled up, panting for breath and frowned in confusion, hadn’t they said it was the first to touch the cup? He was searching around the empty pedestal for something else, some key so that he could follow Potter to whatever part of the task came next when Professor Moody came limping quickly up behind him.

“Diggory, here.” He ordered curtly, his magical eye swirling madly around. “With me now. Out of the maze.”

“Potter…he disappeared?”

“I know.” Moody was blasting the hedges aside with ruthless efficiency. “This isn’t part of the tournament. Dumbledore wants all of you out and safe while we locate Potter.”

Cedric hurried after Moody, a sense of anti-climax and anger blooming as he processed what had just happened. “So, is it over?” 

Moody nodded curtly. “The cup was touched by Potter, that much we know and that makes him the winner. The question is what happened next. What did you see?”

“Nothing, well he…he just vanished into thin air.”

“Portkey.” Moody grunted. “Must have been.” They reached the gathering crowd at the entrance to the maze and Moody pushed him firmly in the direction of his parents. “You did very well Diggory. I saw the whole thing. But for now I must go to assist the others.”

“What’s happening?” His Dad blustered, looking around in confusion. “Isn’t it over yet?”

“Harry Potter is missing.” Cedric said shortly. “It’s always about Harry Potter.”

“Are you alright, sweet,” his Mum reached out to touch his shoulder. “That looks like it hurts.”

“It does.” Cedric snapped. “Just leave me be a moment. I want to know what’s happening.”

*

There was no news though, just an air of confusion with a hint of barely controlled worry showing through the teachers’ careful smiles. Students were escorted back to their houses as spectators began to drift away in gossiping knots of threes and fours. Cedric, scowling in protest, found himself being marched firmly to the hospital wing by Madame Pomfrey and that was where he still was when they bought Potter in some two hours later.

Madame Pomfrey had come over quickly to draw the curtains around his bed but they were enchanted to keep the sound in not out and so Cedric could hear enough odd snatches of conversation to keep him very intrigued.

“…surely the boy is mistaken, Albus, how could such a thing be possible.” That couldn’t be anyone but Professor McGonagall. 

Then Professor Dumbledore. “…old magic. This may mean another war.”

A long sigh and then Professor McGonagall’s voice again. “I will send messages to the old guard.”

He strained to hear more but all he made out was the rustle of curtains as Madame Pomfrey made her way back over to her desk. War? Why would there be war? And whose side would he be on?

Cedric was allowed back to his house common room early that morning. He sneaked into the kitchens and demanded a stack of butter toast from a surprised House Elf and hurried along the corridor to the bedrooms thanking the Powers above that no one spotted him. Alfred sat up almost the second that Cedric’s foot touched the ladder up to his bed.

“You’re back – what time is it?” Alfred rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“About half past Seven.” Cedric offered Alfred a slice of toast and sat down on his friend’s bed. “Did anyone say what happened?”

“No, no-one said anything – just ordered us back to our Houses and said there had been an unexpected event. I thought you’d know.”

“I’ve been in the hospital wing. One of Hagrid’s rotten creatures took a chunk out of me.”

“Did you see anything in the maze?”

Cedric was on the cusp of telling Alfred everything he had seen, Potter disappearing, the obvious confusion and disquiet of the teachers and the muttered snippets of conversation he had overheard in the Hospital Wing. He wasn’t exactly sure what made him pull back from finally speaking of it other than a vague sense that speaking of it would probably cause him more trouble than staying silent.

“Just a lot of Monsters and some weird solid fog. They told me I came second.”

“Did you hear that Potter disappeared. No one knew where he was but he came back.” Alfred pushed his bare feet off the bed and onto the floor. “I’m going to wake up Humphrey. You should have heard all the rumours. People were wondering if Potter was dead.”

Oh to be so lucky, Cedric thought bitterly, surprising himself that this had been his immediate thought. Alfred re-appeared a few moments later with Humphrey two steps behind him.

“Not dead then, Ced?” Humphrey clapped him companionably on his still tender shoulder. 

Cedric winced and then laughed. “Not the last time I checked anyway.”

“He came second.” Alfred said to Humphrey. “Must have been Potter who won then because they brought the other two out before you.”

The next half an hour was dedicated to a comprehensive speculation session about everything that could possibly have happened in the maze. Had Potter been hurt? Did he kill one of Hagrid’s unicorns by accident or some other terrible thing? Cedric joined in the fun, wondering aloud if this would mean he’d win by default and letting the secret resentment at once more being overshadowed fester and grow.

When they eventually left the dormitories to spend time in the Common Room Cedric was bombarded with questions and stares. It wasn’t about him though. Everyone wanted to know about Potter. Even his own friends wanted to talk about Potter more than his own accomplishments. If the tournament had been fair he could have won it.

He avoided lunch wanting very much to hide from the school until such time as he had no more choice in the matter. But there were only so many games of Chess or Snap you could play before you felt like you were losing your mind, and he was hungry. So by the time the evening meal rolled around he braced himself and set out for the hall.

He was grateful to Alfred and Humphrey who flanked him and helped to dodge around any groups of students who seemed likely to accost him and breathed a small sigh of relief when finally they arrived at the Hufflepuff table. He glanced up to the staff table, hoping to see Professor Moody and speak to him after the meal but there was no sign of him. Gone too was Professor Kakaroff and all of the Beauxbaton’s students. The Durmstrang Students still sat at the Slytherin table, Krum among them looking surly and somehow smaller than he had before.

He had just managed to fill his complaining stomach with a hearty beef stew when he was tapped on the shoulder. “Mr Diggory,” it was Professor Sprout looking tired and grave, “please come with me. The Head Master would like to speak to you.”

“What?” He said stupidly. “Why?”

Professor Sprout shook her heard. “With me now please, Diggory.”

Cedric followed his head of house up several staircases and passages feeling increasingly mystified. What could Dumbledore want with him? Maybe he was going to be told that he’d won the tournament after all? Still, if that was the case why not announce it publicly? He found himself face to face with a large Phoenix statue that he remembered being curious about back in his first year. A set of spiralling stairs appeared in front of them and he and Professor Sprout stood as they began their slow ascent up to Dumbledore’s study.

Dumbledore was seated behind a wide mahogany desk fixing Cedric with an uncomfortable direct look over his half-moon spectacles. He nodded as Professor Spout cleared her throat nervously. 

“Diggory, Head Master.”

“Thank you, Pomona,” Professor Dumbledore gave her a polite smile. “If you could please leave us.”

“Head Master, I really think that as I was the one who ordered…” Professor Sprout was cut off with another polite cough and trailed into silence. She nodded, sighed and turned to face Cedric. “Come and see me when this is over, Diggory.”

Then for the first time in his life Cedric found himself alone with Professor Dumbledore.

“Please sit down.” Dumbledore pointed to a large comfortable chair facing his own. “I understand that you received a significant number of lessons from Professor Moody this year.” Dumbledore said mildly. “I would be very interested to hear your account of them.”

“Well,” Cedric began, trying not to sound as unnerved as he felt. “I hadn’t picked Defense Against the Dark Arts at N.E.W.T level, Professor, so Professor Moody offered to teach me. It wasn’t unfair help,” he added defensively suddenly fearing he was about to be disqualified from the tournament after the fact.

“And the content of your lessons adhered to the curriculum of the N.E.W.T?” 

It all came to Cedric in a sudden flash of realisation, Of course Dumbledore must have found out about the dark magic and now he, Cedric, was being used as a pawn to persecute Professor Moody. Well, he wasn’t about to let the one person who had made such a positive difference to this horror of a year be betrayed.

“I wouldn’t know, Professor, I just accepted the material as it came.”

Cedric felt uncomfortably exposed by those calm blue eyes. 

“Did Professor Moody at any point discuss or demonstrate any spells or incantations forbidden by the Ministry.”

“He showed me some curses, Sir,” and not wanting to get himself any further into something without more information about what that something was Cedric took a deep steadying breath. “Am I in trouble, Sir?”  
Dumbledore didn’t give him an answer straight away and instead leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. 

“The man you knew as Professor Moody was not who you believed him to be.” Dumbledore said finally. “He was a convicted Death Eater, a dangerous criminal who attacked Alastor Moody and spent the past year impersonating him as part of a plot to return Lord Voldemort to power.”

Cedric gaped wordlessly at Professor Dumbledore, willing the man to laugh and suddenly confess this was all some huge joke.

“He can’t have been.” His outburst sounded lame even to himself as he watched Dumbledore’s reaction. “Professor, there must have been some sort of mistake. I’d have known.” He trailed off, suddenly realising what all those discussions about politics had really been about.

“I am gravely sorry for the danger to which you were exposed, Diggory.” Dumbledore said frankly. “I felt it important that you should hear this in person before the school are informed. Lord Voldemort has returned. It was the false Professor Moody who we believe was instrumental in his return.”

“Is that the war you were talking about in the hospital wing Sir?”

A faint line appeared between Dumbledore’s eyebrows. “If it comes to that. For now let us focus on celebrating our togetherness, Mr Diggory.”

“Yes Professor,” Cedric took a deep breath. “May I see Professor Moody – well whoever he really is – Sir? I think I want to see this for myself.”

“No.” Professor Dumbledore said coldly, his eyes flashed with an anger that Cedric hoped he never had to see again. It was all he could do to avoid taking a step backwards. “The Dementors have taken him and with it any hope we had of understanding Lord Voldemort’s plans.”

Cedric knew Dementors and he knew a euphemism when he saw one. Whoever the man he had believed to be Moody had really been, Cedric would never hear the truth from him. 

Professor Dumbledore did as promised and announced the return of Lord Voldemort to the whole school the next day at the leaving feast. His two best friends flanked him, neither of them surprised after hearing the news from him the night before. 

Cedric looked around the Great Hall, eyes sweeping from the Slytherin table, full of curious and determined faces to his own Hufflepuff table where people looked more confused than scared. Hufflepuff had the highest proportion of Muggleborns of any house and no Muggle would understand what Voldemort meant for the Wizarding Community.

Alfred had summed it up well enough. “Dumbledore makes him sound like some Comic Super Villain. What does he want?”

“Power.” Cedric hadn’t had to think twice about that answer. Voldemort wanted power because when you had power you could do the things you needed to do and no one would be able to stop you. 

“Time to start planning your escape, Alf.” Humphrey tried to sound light-hearted but made a bad job of it. “My Mum is Muggle-born and she had to go abroad to America last time he got powerful.”

“Wow, cheerful.” Alf too seemed to be trying to make the best of it but Cedric could tell it was half hearted at best. “We shouldn’t let this stop us living our lives. Do you guys want to meet up over the Summer at all?”

And just like that Voldemort was relegated behind the simple everyday concerns of his friends. Cedric didn’t feel much like meeting up with anyone. He wanted to hide away and pretend this who last three months hadn’t happened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return home, family tension, a Quidditch game and a senseless tragedy,

His return home wasn’t what he had hoped it would be. His Mother seemed to know that something was wrong even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it himself. He wasn’t stupid, he could hear the muttered conversations through the wall separating his bedroom from theirs. Even as the second week of the holidays rolled around he still couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow everything had changed.  
Well, almost everything. With a low growling meow his Kneazle, Fidget walked up the length of Cedric’s body, placing his full weight in a particularly uncomfortable spot before flopping down and purring loudly. Cedric extracted an arm and stroked Fidget absently. He was glad of this stupid fluffball of a creature even if he was too grumpy and cantankerous to be able to join Cedric at School. Fidget scratched everyone who came near him, everyone except Cedric anyway. 

“C’mon then,” Cedric groaned, “if you’re going to do that until I feed you.”

He stomped noisily down the stairs, narrowly avoiding Fidget’s attempts to trip him up and break his neck.

“That Potter boy sounds quite mad,” Cedric’s father commented from behind the Daily Prophet as Cedric filched some bacon for Fidget and eggs for himself. “Either that or he’s going for even more attention than he’s already got.”

“What’s it saying, Amos Dear?” His mother asked from across the kitchen where she was deftly conducting an orchestra of kitchen implements. Whatever the latest sensation Potter was causing Cedric did his best to ignore it and continue with his scrambled eggs. Potter, Potter and more Potter was all that had filled the Daily Prophet in the three weeks since he’d returned home from Hogwarts. 

No one had wanted to interview him about the tournament, apart from that idiot Lovegood, and there hadn’t been a single word about the so-called return of the Dark Lord that Potter had been raging about at the end of the term. Part of him began to believe that Dumbledore had made the whole thing up, the Prophet made a good argument for that anyway. Everyone knew that Dumbledore adored Potter; maybe this was just the latest in a series of missteps and errors of judgement that showed Dumbledore was getting too old for the responsibilities he bore.

It would have been better if he could have got out and seen his friends but after one solitary meet up for ice-cream both of them were now overseas visiting or holidaying and so he was stuck in the back of beyond bored out of his skull and feeling like his one chance at really doing something important had been taken from him.

“They’re trying to say that we should be on the look out for Dark Magic.” His Father let out a somewhat forced laugh. “As if we should expect He Who Must Not be Named to rise from the grave.”

“Still, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make sure the law is obeyed.” His Mother, ever the keen legal scholar of Magical Law, observed. “Dark magic always brings trouble.”

“No such thing as dark magic,” Cedric muttered, picking up his plate and dumping it in the sink where the dishes were busy cleaning themselves. He knew he was heading for trouble but his parents needed to understand. They couldn’t just hole themselves up in this pretence of normality whilst Wizards held themselves back and hid from Muggles on some old out-dated idea of equality and fairness.

“Oh yes there is,” his Mother shot back. “And as I told you last time you brought up this silliness; if you were old enough to- ”

“…to remember the sacrifices we had to make to ensure you grew up in this perfect shining world.” Cedric retorted. “Yeah Mum, I’ve heard it enough.”

His Father’s eyebrows drew together in the middle and Cedric had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Don’t speak to your Mother that way,” his Father began, folding the paper and setting it down with a final sounding rustle. “We know the last year has been hard and we’ve made many allowances for you but I won’t tolerate this surliness.”

“Thank you?” Cedric shot back acidly.

“Now don’t let’s fight again,” his mother sounded anxious now. “I just want you to have a nice holiday and go back to school feeling rested.”

“Don’t mollycoddle the boy, Ophelia,” his Father stood and began pulling on his work robes to head to the shop. “He doesn’t need rest he needs some damned hard work to sort his head out.”

Cedric’s next angry snarl died in his throat at his Mother’s touch. His Father nodded in satisfaction that the argument seemed over and patted Cedric on the shoulder companionably as he passed by on his way to the fireplace. “Your Mother and I only want the best for you, Son.”

“Yes Dad.” Cedric muttered, feeling equal parts angry, guilty and frustrated at himself and the whole world. “I’ll…I’ll weed the garden or something.”

“The Hellebore and Foxgloves do need some attention.” His Dad seemed to be almost talking to himself now and picked up a handful of Floo powder before stepping into the flames. “Oh well, see you both tonight.” With that he disappeared in a whoosh of emerald flame.

His Mother let out a sigh and reached up to cup his face in her hands. She had the same worried line between her eyebrows that was greeting him each morning in the mirror. She smiled at his embarrassed squirm and let him go after a brief squeezed hug.

“I’ve got tickets to the Wasps game today.” She said a little hesitantly. “Like we used to when you were small?”  
Shorter you mean?” Cedric grinned at her suddenly feeling a lot brighter at the possibility of getting out of the house and somewhere interesting for a bit. “I’ll get my replica robes.”

*

The game had been put together on a clearing on an exposed bit of Cornish Moor. After the world cup everything felt a bit small and domestic as he and his mother apparated in the field next to the entrance to the stand. They made their way inside and Cedric fished out a few knuts for his Mum and him to share one of the bottomless popcorns.

It was a beautifully clear day and Cedric watched the teams warming up with not a small amount of envy. He still hadn’t fully decided how to tell his Dad that he didn’t want to continue on his path towards the potions business. A month ago he’d firmly believed that he would win the tournament and then in the heady thrill of victory he would be able to tell his Dad the truth. Now it was not so simple anymore. He thought of Professor Moody and the confidence that the man had shown in him and wondered for the hundredth time that summer if it had all been an act.

His Mother came back to their seats with snacks and they settled down to the game. The Tornados were the opponents and Cedric found himself automatically looking about the stands to see if Cho was there with her family.

The game began and Cedric gave up on any further introspection in favour of appreciating the skilled play on offer. At least two of the Tornados team were ex House team players from Hogwarts, both had been in Slytherin and both were formidable chasers. He turned his attention to watching the Seeker, always the position he was most interested in and began to watch the methodical search flight on both opposing players.  
The game was scheduled to go for a full three hours before the first break and after two and a half hours Cedric was beginning to contemplate something more substantial than Popping Corn. He pulled out his coin pouch and headed to the food vendors wondering if he should try the new Hot Dog stand that had set up next to the more traditional pies and soups on offer. He was dithering between the two, not quite sure if he trusted the idea of sausage and cheese with mustard, when he heard a familiar friendly voice calling his name.

Sebastian Fawley came walking over to him flanked by an older Wizard and a boy who Cedric vaguely recognised as being a Ravenclaw.

“Cedric, this is my Father and you probably won’t know Emmett but he was a year above us in School.”

Cedric shook hands and made polite conversation for a minute or two before Sebastian’s Father Abelard looked over at the stalls sceptically. “I have to say I don’t really approve of that Muggle muck, not our way after all.”

“I think it’s run by an American Muggle-born.” Cedric said disinterestedly, catching sight of a flag at the back of the store.

“Hmmph well he should definitely know better.” Aberlard scowled, making his scholarly, aristocratic face look quite severe. “At least Wizards over there don’t go in for making eyes at every Muggle that catches their fancy.”

“It’s not so bad if they adopt our ways.” Cedric countered, recycling one of his favourite arguments he used to have with Professor Moody. “It’s the dilution of blood and tradition that we shouldn’t stand for.”

“Politics and pies,” Mr Fawley chuckled fondly, “Sebastian said that you were a man who knew his mind.”

Cedric continued to chat amiably with the two Fawleys and Emmett until the line reached the little shop keeper. He returned back to his Mother with two Steak and Kidney pies and Sebastian’s promise to catch up with him at the next break in play. Sure enough Sebastian appeared with his usual laconic smile in place and slid onto the bench next to Cedric. The two of them swapped opinions on brooms and players for a solid twenty minutes before one idle comment brought the whole happy exchange to an awkward halt.

Sebastian was in the middle of describing what was, to Cedric at least, an honestly funny story about a Muggleborn trying to explain to Quidditch to a man who had been watching it longer than that Muggleborn had been alive. 

“Of course, Father wasn’t having any of that kind of advice from some jumped up little Mudblood and - ”

“Do not use that language in my hearing.” 

Cedric’s head whipped around at the outrage in his Mother’s voice. Sebastian looked offended. “I’ll use whatever words I choose to use.”

“Of course you may,” his Mother snapped, “but you will kindly do so elsewhere unless you want me to share my concerns with your Great Aunt.”

Sebastian left in a hurry leaving a heavy silence behind him. The few fellow spectators who were sitting around them all seemed to have suddenly gone abruptly deaf.

“Mum…did you have to do that?” He muttered, feeling both annoyed and embarrassed by her behaviour. “It is only a word. And he doesn’t think Muggleborns are bad.”

“Words matter, Ced.” His mother sighed and patted his shoulder. “Don’t spend much more time with him than you have to. His Father has fought against Muggle rights for years.”

“So?” Now he was angry again. “People don’t have to be what their parents are.”

“Exactly.” She said, all level headed and precise, in full lawyer mode. “Therefore it follows that holding someone’s blood status as an indicator of skill or moral worth is false reasoning. Doesn’t it?”

“Oh that’s right.” Cedric muttered. “Make it sound all nice and easy.”

“It isn’t easy.” His Mother looked at him in a way she’d never done before, as if she was seeing him as an adult for the first time. “That’s the point, Ced, it’s easy to go along with the crowd and do and say what will make you popular. Right now that means it’s easy to be disrespectful of anyone who isn’t pure blooded. It’s harder, much, much harder to do the right thing even in the face of opposition.”

He knew that, of course he knew that. And he knew that he should feel aggrieved for Alfred and people like him when people like Sebastian made the kind of comments he did. But you could be for Muggle rights and at the same time want to ensure your own rights weren’t violated. It seemed like every adult around him apart from someone who was accused of being a Death Eater didn’t seem to understand this.

“I just think Wizards are important too Mum.” He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his now cold pie. “I’m not about to go around murdering Muggles or anything.”

“Don’t joke about that, Ced.” She sighed. 

Cedric wondered if now would be a good time to raise the idea of going into politics when the shouts of excitement from the crowd dragged him out of his thoughts. The Tornados seeker was streaking across the pitch so fast she was almost a blur. Cedric’s gaze darted along the line of her flight and caught the faintest glint of gold.

“Oh she’s got to have it,” his Mum cried, all trace of careworn adulthood gone in a flash of excitement and desperation. “Come on, Wasps stop her!”

Cedric winced as a bludger from Kasparov, the Wasps overseas loan player, came hurtling at the Tornados seeker and caught her full in the ribs. In between wanting her to fail and groaning in sympathy for the blow she took he had to admire the sheer skills she showed in staying on her broom at all. It was too late for her though as their own Seeker, Lynch, streaked past her and gave a whoop of excitement as he rose, snitch in hand. 

Cedric walked back to the apparition point with his Mother, happy to have such a dramatic end to the match take away from the awkwardness that had preceded it. Their house was set a little way back from the Muggle Road into Ottery St Catchpole and the garden, protected by magic wards, extended almost up to the edge of the smooth black road surface. Thanks to some delicate charm work Cedric could barely hear the steady rumble of Muggle cars as they passed by. He knelt on the ground, hands deep in the warm earth as he tugged up the last of the foxgloves and re-planted it where it was supposed to go. He sighed feeling content for the hard work and time with his Mum, hopeful that dinner would be a more peaceful meal than breakfast.

There were still a couple of hours for him to get the rest of the garden seen to and if he was lucky he’d be able to take his broom out and practise some of those moves for next year’s Quidditch games. Fidget came and butted at his hand, chasing the beetles and spiders disturbed by the gardening and then wandered off towards the Hedgerows. Cedric nearly went after him, he had a bad habit of ‘hunting’ nestling birds, but decided that any remaining nests were probably safe.

*  
.A sudden loud screech and the sound of a horn blaring jerked him out of a pleasant daydream about winning the league for the Wasps. Cedric felt a sudden burst of dread and looked around sharply for any sign of Fidget. He got to his feet and ran onto the road only to see a red car disappearing into the distance. He caught a glimpse of the passenger, long blonde hair and an expression that could have been anxiety as she reached across to the driver a man with short chestnut hair and gestured something. 

Fidget was lying on the ground struggling to raise his head. Cedric picked him up and ran inside, feeling blood hot and sticky on his hands as he yelled for his Mum. There was nothing to be done though and Fidget died in his arms.

*  
He locked himself in his room that evening and ignored his Mum’s efforts to coax him out with his favourite foods. The buzz of rage that had at first only faintly sounded at the edge of his consciousness now grew louder and louder.

They hadn’t even stopped. 

Those Muggles had killed his cat, a grumpy, cantankerous creature he’d loved since he was five and they hadn’t even bothered to stop long enough to apologise. The memory of the woman turning and looking back at him played over and over in his mind.

He couldn’t stay here. He knew what colour that car was. He was going to find them and make them pay. As quietly as he could he pushed his winder open, placed his wand carefully inside his robes and carefully climbed down into the garden and out into the night.

The village wasn’t far, perhaps only half an hour if you were strolling but Cedric wasn’t in the mood for a stroll. He was out for blood. Everywhere he looked there were cars. He slashed and kicked at one only to set some caterwauling charm off. He melted back into the shadows and kept walking as the lamps in the house were lit and Muggles appeared on the driveway.

He set a locking jinx on each of the rest of the cars in the driveways and streets he passed, careful to keep quiet whilst he searched. After the fourth check of a lane proved fruitless he checked his watch, one more hour and if he didn’t find anything then he would need to head back home and research some spells for tracking those lousy cat killing bastards and come back.

Then he saw it.

He stood for what felt like forever watching the house until he was beyond sure that it was them. The blood was singing in his veins as he pictured what he could do to them; seal the doors and set the place aflame, torture them, drive them mad. He knew he had the ability and he knew it would feel good. His wand grew hot in his hand as he gripped it fighting between his anger and his conscience.  
Mind made up he flicked his wand towards the car and watched with grim satisfaction as it erupted into a ball of flames. 

He watched for a long time from the dark of the trees as Muggles swarmed all over the street dragging great long snakes of rubber full of water and piling it on the smoking wreck of the car. The woman was screaming hysterically while the man, who didn’t look to be much older than Cedric, talked to some official looking people. Muggle Aurors Cedric assumed. Good luck to them catching him. If they did then he’d make sure they regretted it.

He slipped away into the darkness and made his way back home feeling hollow inside. He thought that watching the Muggles suffer would help but it hadn’t. His chest and throat felt tight and full as he fought back tears of anger and frustration. He climbed carefully up to his open window and lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric decides to confront the person who ran over his pet. He makes a mistake that will mar his entire life.

Over the next weeks the hollow feeling persisted. He felt as if everything good in his life, Cho, getting picked in the tournament, Professor Moody and now Fidget was slowly being taken away. He shrugged off all attempts by his Mother to talk to him about what had happened and give him space to grieve properly. He didn’t feel like grieving; if he cried then he would be admitting that those Muggles, without any magic or any power to speak of, had managed to hurt him. 

There was no bringing Fidget back though, however hard he wished it would be so. This was just another example of Muggles and stupid laws fucking him over. If he was ever going to change that he’d have to find a way to make a real impact. In an effort to make his parents leave him be he went out of his way to play the dutiful son; helping in the garden, practicing Quidditch and buying his new schoolbooks from Flourish and Botts. Bit by bit he let his Mum and Dad relax and believe that he had recovered from the last year. 

Then Alfred returned from holiday and invited him to Muggle London for the weekend before the school year began. It would be good to get away he thought and quickly dashed off an acceptance before going downstairs to tell his Mother.

“Alfred wants to take me to some Muggle show,” he commented, scanning the letter. “Is it okay if I go? It’s only one night so I’ll go and be back well in time for our last day before school.”

His Mother smiled brightly at the mention of Muggle theatre, she’d loved the gaudy London shows ever since first studying them in N.E.W.T Muggle Studies and had taken Cedric many times when he was younger.

“Do you know which show?”

“Cats.” Cedric rolled his eyes at the thought of the look on Alfred’s face when he learned of the awful coincidence of his offer. “I guess he thinks he’s being thoughtful.”

“Well if you want to go, I don’t see why not. It’d be good for you to get out a bit before you go back to school.” She turned back to making breakfast without any more awkward questions. 

“Awesome.” This time when he smiled it was genuine. “It’s this evening so I’ll sleep over at his place. I can Apparate back in the morning.” He pushed back his chair and went to head upstairs, giving his room one last look over as he made his final check. He would only need his wand. With that he kissed his Mum on the cheek as he headed out.

Her cheery goodbye echoed down the garden path after him. “Make sure you get me a programme.” 

*  
When he twisted into the squeezing nothingness of Apparition, he reappeared not in Alfred’s back garden but the neatly kept lawn and begonias of the Muggles who had murdered Fidget. Even as he’d made the split-second decision to confront them, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping to achieve. He was inside in less than two minutes. Muggle houses were ridiculously easy to break into. It had taken one disillusionment charm and one non-verbal alohomora. 

Methodically he made his way around the house, checking and sealing windows and doors. His stomach twisted in excited knots of anticipation and nerves. What if he couldn’t make them forget once he was finished with them? Still. It was their own fault. If they’d stopped. If they’d apologised. If they’d done anything to acknowledge their actions then he wouldn’t have to do this now. He’d make sure they understood.  
He could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom. One of them was in the shower. He sat on the bed and waited, heart thundering in his ears. He knew he shouldn’t do this. He could walk away and forget he ever even contemplated this. 

But then if he did that then they’d never pay for what they had done. Sometimes you had to make your own justice. The sound of the water ceased and he readied his wand. Her startled scream when she caught sight of him never left her throat.

*  
“You killed my cat.” Cedric was amazed at how calm he sounded. Inside he felt anything but calm but he wasn’t about to let some Muggle know that. She stared at him with wide, terrified eyes and made another attempt to scream. He put her in the full body bind and double checked his spell work on the remaining doors and windows. Professor Flitwick himself would be proud.

He sat back down on the bed and released the hex. She made a beeline for the way out and he felt a burst of vicious satisfaction as she struggled with the cursed door. 

“Aren’t you going to say you’re sorry for what you did?”

She gave Cedric a defiant look and pulled out a black square from her pocket and tapped at it furiously. Cedric had it out of her hand with another wordless spell. 

She screeched like it had burned her. “How are you doing that?”

Cedric smirked. “Magic.” 

“Look I’m sorry for your cat, okay.” The Muggle woman gave him a look that might have been genuine remorse in between the abject terror and then scrambled again for the black rectangle. She yelped at the stinging jinx Cedric sent her way, whimpering as she rubbed at the boils on her forearms. “John was sorry, he was going to come by your place.”

“I want to hear that from him.”

There was something exhilarating in this power. Magic had been so universal in his life he had never really considered what an advantage it really was. This Muggle was powerless against him. 

Cedric stood, towering over her and relishing in the rush as she cowered away. “Contact him. Get him to come here and apologise.”

She shook her head backing away until she hit the door again and rattled in fruitlessly. 

Cedric’s lip curled up in a snarl. “It’s not a request. Do it or I will make you do it.”

The Muggle was brave, he had to give her that. She was obviously terrified but when she spoke again her voice was steady. “You’re scaring me.”

He shrugged. “Good. Last chance.”

There was a sharp hissing sound and the next thing he knew his eyes were on fire. He flung his hands up to cover his face only to double over as the Muggle kicked him hard in the stomach. He reacted without thinking about it and cast the strongest shield charm he could ever recall producing. He heard her cry out, the rattle of bottles on the dresser as she hit it and then complete silence. 

His eyes were streaming. He forced himself to stop and think and tried a cooling charm. It didn’t work immediately but after a few more seconds the pain stopped and his vision began to clear. 

The Muggle was lying on the ground, her open eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. There was something wrong with the way she looked, as if her body was empty of some vital thing. He watched for a solid minute for any sign of movement but none came. He didn’t know exactly how it had happened and he had never intended to do it but all same he had killed her.

Bile rose up in the back of Cedric’s throat and he had to fight back a wave of nausea. He wasn’t a murderer; he couldn’t be a murderer if he hadn’t meant to kill her, could he? Somewhere quietly the rectangle lit up and began to vibrate. Fighting back a wave of panic, Cedric took one last look around, lifted the charms and slipped quietly out of the back door. 

Once he got outside, he slid down against the wall of the house and buried his head in his hands trying to breathe. He stared down at his hands trying to see if they looked different now that he was a murderer. Somehow, he thought that they should. 

What was he going to do now? Sooner or later that other Muggle would come home and find his – what even had she been – partner – dead. Those Muggle Aurors would investigate and when they couldn’t find anything then what? Magical Law Enforcement had Wizards planted in Muggle Auror groups for precisely things like this. 

But they’d never think to look for him, would they? No one even knew that he’d been here and he’d been careful to make sure his parents hadn’t had any cause to worry. Maybe if he just carried on as if he’d never been here then no one would ever find out. 

He stood, dusted off his robes and Apparated away.

Cedric had arranged to meet Alfred in the local park near his home where the foliage made for convenient Apparition locations. Alfred lived in one of those sprawling Muggle towns on the outskirts of London that all looked identical. Alfred looked tanned and relaxed as he made his way over with a friendly wave. Cedric dug his nails into his palms to ground himself. It felt surreal to be here like this when back in the village someone was lying dead by his hand.

A few scant seconds later they were in Diagon Alley and Cedric unfurled his new cloak and swirled it around his shoulders. It seemed so weirdly normal to be walking along the street like this. Surely if he was now a killer, he shouldn’t be able to just carry on as normal. Something should have changed. People should notice what he had done and recognise him for what he was. 

“Flash,” was the only comment Alfred made as they wandered down the length of the Alley, making a beeline for the broom shop.

“I want to win the Quidditch Cup this year,” Cedric commented, eyeing up the Firebolt on display with longing. “Fuck Gryffindor. They’ve won everything by fluke or because Dumbledore loves Potter so much.”

Alfred gave him a patient look and wandered off to look at a set of Quidditch balls rattling restlessly in a case. “Did you go and watch any games over the Summer? My Dad got us into Lords for the Cricket test. It was awesome.”

They passed the next half an hour sipping butterbeer as they wandered the length of the Alley debating if Cricket was actually a sport or not. Cedric had been to a game once and had admired the athleticism of the chasers – well fielders but hadn’t really understood what was happening. Every now and again the image of the Muggle woman punched itself into the front of his brain. As they passed the offices of the Daily Prophet his eye caught on a bright red headline ‘MUGGLE ATTACKS INCREASE’. He jumped at the sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder, ready for the Aurors to come any second now.

“You okay, mate?” It was only Alfred, frowning quizzically at him. “You went away on me for a minute there.” 

“Yeah,” Cedric rubbed a hand through his hair distractedly. “I mean…I guess I was just thinking about the team this year.”

“No, I’m not going to join you in trying to pressgang Humps.” Alfred smiled. “Before you get in there with your mad evangelism.”

“They’re selling Muggle food at the Quidditch now.” Cedric commented as they picked their flavours from Florian Fortescue’s shop and settled outside in the warmth of a late July day. “That says they’re trying to attract Muggleborns at least.”

“What even is ‘Muggle’ food?” Alfred chuckled and made a swipe to catch his teetering ice cream. “It’s not like Wizards are allergic to any of it. Well except shrimp but since you’re the only Pureblood I know who’s allergic to it I’m not sure that counts.”

“Traditional food.” Cedric shrugged. “They had Hot Dogs. I mean what is a Hot Dog, it doesn’t have any dog in it.”

Alfred gave him that same patient look he’d used in the broom store earlier. “And that is your primary objection? Muggles are just like us. My family are still related to me even though they’re about the most non-magical people ever. My Dad can’t even do card tricks.”

“Why do you think that is?” Cedric said suddenly, a strange thought catching his attention. “That you ended up with magic and the rest of your family didn’t?”

Alfred shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose it just happens. Some people have brothers and sisters who are all magical. None of my sisters are.”

The idea of not knowing why you were the way you were seemed strange to Cedric. “You’ve never checked to see if you had any wizarding relatives?”

This time Alfred looked a little less patient. “And why would I do that?”

“Well, to explain where the magic came from. I mean it makes us special so we need to understand where we fit in the world.”

Of all the reactions Cedric had expected it wasn’t the scowl that now appeared on his best friend’s face. “Do me a favour and stop quoting from the Purity First manifesto. It’s really bringing me down.”

“The what?”

“Those fascist pricks who go on about Wizarding Pride.” Alfred jerked his head in the direction of Knockturn Alley where a few people gathered in robes and hats stood proudly by a table filled with leaflets. “I mean, you’d think they thought all Muggleborns were evil.”

“I never even heard of them.” Cedric muttered, feeling suddenly defensive. “You know I don’t think any less of you for your blood status.”

“Any less?” Alfred laughed derisively. “Fuck off.”

“Any different then.” Cedric folded his arms and glanced back over his shoulder at the group. “I’m your friend. You know that.”

“Well, think about what you say then.” Alfred’s customary easy smile was already threatening to break through once more. “And pay for my next ice-cream as penance.”

He did pay for the ice-cream but gave the leaflet stall a long curious look as they walked back up the Alley in preparation to go into Muggle London. A young witch smiled encouragingly at him and gave a small wave, holding up a leaflet in her free hand. Cedric wasn’t quite ready to risk another argument with Alfred yet and so turned and walked away. At the brick arch Cedric reluctantly slid off his warm cloak in favour of some thin Muggle clothing and slipped through into the thunder and rumble of muggle traffic. 

The air was still warm but the nights were drawing in and he could feel the edges of autumn in the odd gust of wind. Cedric let Alfred lead him through the maze of endless identical tunnels that were the Tube. Cedric had always quite enjoyed the trains before but now they put him in mind of creatures crawling nastily hidden underground.

On the flat screens that flashed moving images over the heads of the commuters there scrolled images of Ottery St Catchpole itself. 

WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN QUIET DEVONSHIRE VILLAGE POLICE DO NOT RULE OUT FOUL PLAY

Once again Cedric felt the world shift under his feet and turned away before Alfred could catch sight of his expression. He’d been able to forget, for the afternoon at least, but this wasn’t a dream and he wasn’t going to wake up. He had blood on his hands.

He felt restless and distracted throughout the whole evening that followed. Somehow, he managed to plaster on a smile and carry on but the whole time he just wanted to get out of there, to walk, to think. Why couldn’t everyone see him for what he was? Was it so easy to kill someone and just – just carry on as normal?

*  
The following day he excused himself breakfast at Alfred’s, both of his sisters had been tapping away on those stupid black rectangles that the Muggle woman had used. It gave him a headache. The only good thing about these Muggles was that he could Apparate straight from their living room. 

“See you on September 1st.” Was all Alfred said as Cedric carefully placed the copy of the Cats Programme into his bag and turned on the spot into oblivion. He reappeared in Knockturn Alley and immediately put his cloak back around his shoulders, wary of being spotted by anyone who could recognise him. He took a minute to check he was where he expected to be and made a beeline back for the place where the stall-holders had been yesterday.

They were there again. He hung back to study the people there, two men and three women. The crowd that passed them mostly seemed to pretend they couldn’t see them. One or two people actively scowled in their direction.

“Are you ashamed?”

He jumped at the sudden shout and looked up to find himself being directly addressed by the youngest Wizard there, dressed in rich burgundy that set off his auburn hair. Cedric was shocked to find that he recognised him as Emmett, the boy who had been with Sebastian Fawley at the Quidditch game. Again, that sense of apprehension filled him and he glanced warily up and down the street before finally making his way over.

“I just…”

“It’s natural that you would be ashamed.” The Wizard continued, “since the Ministry have brainwashed you into thinking you don’t have anything to be proud of. Are you still at Hogwarts?”

Cedric nodded, glad for any excuse not to have to think too quickly about what to say next.

“And subject to yet more nonsense from Wizards and Witches who disrespect their ancestors and the gifts they have given us. Albus Dumbledore is a blight on the education of our children. You, young man, are the inheritor of a proud culture which goes back thousands of years. Our society is unique, strong and powerful and yet we hide and shun our natural place. You have no reason to feel ashamed.”

With that the Wizard smiled and offered his hand “Emmett Farnham, we met briefly at the Quidditch but were never properly introduced.”

“Cedric,” Cedric said shaking Farnham’s hand. “Cedric Diggory.”

“The Hogwarts Champion?” Farnham’s eyebrows raised. “Very bad business. That Potter boy should never have been allowed to compete. But I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

“No,” Cedric said shortly, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone and glancing curiously at the titles of the pamphlets laid out before him on the table.

‘Magic, our greatest strength.’

‘Preserving our proud heritage.’

‘A culture divided is a culture defeated.’

Farnham picked up ‘Preserving our proud heritage’ and handed it to him. “Read that, Mr Diggory, and tell me you are not outraged by what you learn. The Ministry is actually giving Muggleborns priority access to jobs within it. It’s stripping our own of the chance to get ahead.”

“Well,” Cedric mumbled self-consciously, “it is just a way to help people who don’t have a family business.”

“An unfair advantage by and unfair system populated by people with no respect for history. Read it young man and tell me I’m wrong. We need intelligent passionate young people like you to take this seriously, or else what we value will be lost forever.”

Cedric frowned thoughtfully at the cheerfully coloured leaflet in his hand. It felt good to have someone outside his family and close friends not shy away about speaking frankly about the tournament. He’d had more than enough of being laughed at by people who didn’t want to listen.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, putting the pamphlet in his bag alongside the programme. “I will read it.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Farnham gave him a bright smile. “Do send me an owl with any thoughts you might have. I never turn down the chance to discuss our history.”

Cedric walked a little further down the street, trying to put off returning home for as long as he could. He didn’t want to see the Muggle Aurors or face the possibility that his parents might ask questions he didn’t want to answer. In the end though he had worried for nothing about his Mother. She took the programme, kissed him on the cheek and didn’t say anything at all about murders in the village or Aurors sniffing around the home. 

Cedric took a deep breath and headed upstairs to finish of his final packing for his final year. It felt strange to be going back. There had been times throughout his sixth year when he had seriously contemplated dropping out, his Father would still employ him he knew that, but after knowing what he could do, after being truly pushed he didn’t want to settle for that anymore.

He came across the pamphlet as it fluttered out of his bag and regarded it silently for a few moments. He’d liked the man at the stall, he’d been friendly and engaging; it would be easy, very easy, to accept everything that he had said. Cedric knew it was true that Muggleborns got extra help to get careers in the Ministry, everyone knew that and until today he’d thought everyone supported it too, now those first few seeds of doubt crept in on him. Except every time he got close to agreeing with Purity First, he pictured Alfred. He couldn’t square Muggleborns as the people at that table saw them with Alfred. Alfred was a good person.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to Hogwarts and a very unexpected new relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit to being a bit in doubt about writing Sebastian and Cedric together. I really hate the 'dark character goes gay to show how deviant they are' trope but this REALLY wasn't my intention here. As you go through the rest of the story you will hopefully see that apart from the prejudice of other wizards the fact that Sebastian isn't a girl is just not relevant to the storyline. Also I absolutely love Sebastian and have decided he's gonna pop up in some other fics I write because yay Ravenclaw.

The platform for Hogwarts was crowded and full of steam. Cedric said goodbye to his Dad who had Apparated with him and then wandered down the platform towards the Prefect’s carriage

“Cedders!” Humphrey disengaged himself from his small army of cousins and greeted him enthusiastically. After a fraction of a second, he stepped back and looked more seriously at Cedric. “I’m glad you’ve come back. It’s going to be an interesting year.”

Cedric frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just you wait.” Humphrey said, his usual smile back on his face in a flash. “Anyway, how was Summer. Alfred sent me an OWL about the Muggle play. Was it good?”

“Let’s just say I’m never going to look at old McGonagall in the same way.” Cedric returned his friend’s smile and stopped once they reached the Prefects Carriage. “I’ll come by once I’ve done the first patrol. Save me a seat.”

The Carriage only had one other occupant; Cedric recognised him as the seeker from the Slytherin team. Malfoy looked up as he entered and gave a polite nod.

“Is it true we get our own table service here?”

“Yeah,” Cedric said sliding into one of the padded seats. “Sadly, you’ll have to wait until the train actually departs.”

Malfoy shrugged and turned his attention back to the book he’d been reading when Cedric entered. Something about his posture was too studied to be quite believable and sure enough after only a few more seconds of silence the other boy looked up again.

“See you on the Quidditch Pitch this year?” He asked.

“Hope so,” Cedric started digging through his bag for his robes. “It was weird without it. Felt like something was missing”

Malfoy’s eyebrows raised at that. “I hardly think you’d have had time to miss it last year.”

“All the more reason to go hard this year.” Cedric smirked. “I reckon we can beat you.”

Malfoy laughed at that, but there wasn’t any mockery to it. “I look forward to seeing you try, Diggory.” Then, as if a Dementor had suddenly entered the room, Malfoy’s expression hardened as two new people joined them.

Ron Weasley didn’t look any happier to see Malfoy than Malfoy looked to see him. He turned to Hermione Granger, already flushing with anger. “They made HIM a Prefect? He’s an absolute tosser.”

“I could say the same about you, Weasley,” Malfoy drawled. “Do continue to insult me. If we’re lucky we might get to witness a Hogwarts Record for the shortest time to lose your badge.”

“That’s enough.” Cedric cut in shortly, “Weasley, sit down and shut up.”

Weasley looked very much like he wanted argue the point. A sharp tug on his sleeve by Granger was enough to finally make the boy stop talking. Cedric pulled out the latest copy of Quidditch Today and buried his nose in it until the Head Boy and Girl, Vaisey from Slytherin and Galbraith from Ravenclaw, arrived to welcome the rest of the new Prefects.

Meeting done and rosters for patrolling the corridors organised the Prefects carriage started to empty slowly. Cedric passed Malfoy as he went to leave and the boy gave him another nod and a look of thanks, probably for his show of support earlier. Cedric didn’t really care about Malfoy or the squabbles of fifth years but he did care about making Gryffindors look stupid. He returned Malfoy’s smile and left to head back down the train.

He heard Cho’s laugh before he saw her and his heart gave a strange thump in his chest. She was in the middle of her group of friends all cooing over the photograph of the new Beaters for the English Quidditch team. Cedric fought down the urge to roll his eyes and pushed open the compartment door.

“Hello ladies,” he smiled as four pairs of eyes looked up at the sound of the opening door. He gave Cho a questioning look and glanced back out into the corridor. “I was wondering if I could have a word.”

“Err,” Cho began, looking uncertain. There was an awkward pause in which one girl, Marietta, began to giggle nervously. That seemed to spur Cho into finally getting up and she slipped out into the corridor looking uncomfortable, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

“I don’t want us to fight, Cho,” Cedric mumbled, feeling his earlier fragile hope that things would somehow have fixed themselves over summer evaporate before his eyes. “Can we try again?”

She looked up at him steadily and seemed about to say something when there was another burst of laughter from her carriage. She looked down and away, the silence growing heavier again before she finally spoke. “Let’s just see how things go, okay. You really hurt me last year.”

“I was – it was…” He sputtered, trying to get his thoughts out in some form of coherent sentence. “It was very difficult.”

“It’s your N.E.W.T year, Ced,” she murmured. “It’s not going to get any easier.”

“I’ll make up for last year,” he gabbled, “I don’t care about exams. I can take you to Madame Puddifoots and…”

“Let’s just see,” she repeated and with one last sad smile she ducked back inside her compartment.

By the time Cedric finally made his way down the train and found Humphrey and Alfred he was in a bad mood. He had done his first patrol on the way down and was already tired of people pointing and giggling at him when he had passed them by.

“Well aren’t you just full of the joys of spring.” Humphrey commented, throwing a packet of Bertie Bott’s beans at him. “Here you go, I just hope you don’t eat anything sour. Not sure if your face could take it.”

“I hate this school.” Cedric sighed, throwing back his head against the seat. “Honestly I don’t care how many detentions I get, if I hear one comment about bubbles this year, I am going to throw that person in the lake.”

“So,” Alfred nicked one of the beans and gave a satisfied little grunt, “Fejoa, nice. Anyway, Cho wasn’t going to hear you out?”

“How the hell do you know this stuff?” Cedric retorted, taking several beans at once and instantly regretting the combination of sardines and furniture polish that resulted.

“Because she’s the only one who makes you pull a face like that. Well her and Harry Potter but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to date him.”

“Ha bloody ha,” Cedric retorted, conjuring himself a flask of water and sipping at it to clear the taste from his mouth. “So, I have an hour until I next have to go and patrol and I really don’t want to discuss Cho any more. Let’s do something fun.”

“Poker then.” Alfred decreed, pulling out a set of cards. “I can go and get the Weasleys and Jordan from next door, they’d be game.”

The remainder of the train ride went rather well. He got seven sickles out of Jordan and a whole galleon out of Humphrey who had a good humour not to complain too loudly. Cedric decided that if Cho thought she was too good for him then he might as well use the money at the next Hogwarts Weekend to buy some real drinks.

Cedric didn’t have to get his robes on so he went ahead to make sure they got seats in a good carriage near the head of the procession. When he looked up and saw the ghostly grey creatures standing reined to the carriages, he stopped so suddenly that a group of fourth years ran straight into the back of him.

Cedric turned with another surge of irritation written across his face.

It was the Creevey kid’s brother. “Oi, watch where you’re…oh sorry.” The clear fear written on the kid’s face was enough to mollify Cedric and let him collect himself enough. Those were the Thestrals then. He remembered something about them now from a lesson back in his third year. Only visible to those who had seen death and widely considered to be bad luck. 

For the first time that day the memory of the Muggle woman flashed into the front of his brain. He couldn’t let anyone know that he could see them now. If he did then questions would follow and then it’d be Azkaban for him. 

“Our Cedders looks a little green around the gills,” Alfred commented as he and Humphrey climbed up accompanied by Evelyn and Maude, their fellow Hufflepuff 7th years. “Bad bean?”

“Mustard and Cayenne Pepper,” Cedric muttered, glad of a convenient excuse.

“Here,” Evelyn said, her usual brisk, kind and helpful self, pressing a flask of butter-beer into his hands. “That will help.”

“Thanks, Elvs.” He said gratefully and took a generous swallow, the taste of butterbeer bringing back better memories than the sight of Thestrals. Everyone chattered away about holidays and exams while outside the sun began to dip and clouds swept down the valley bringing a light drizzle. Maude and Alfred cosied up together and Cedric fought down a stab of jealousy. Not wanting to watch the two of them anymore Cedric watched the lights in the school gradually appear through the rain and felt himself wishing he could just go back a year and not put his name in that stupid Goblet.

The Great Hall at least appeared welcoming as they made their way over to the Hufflepuff table and settled down for the Feast. Cedric couldn’t help but watch Potter as he made his way over to the Gryffindor table flanked by Weasley and Granger. He did look a little unhinged, black hair wilder than ever and glancing anxiously up at the staff table. He was probably just checking to see if Dumbledore was still around to make sure he won whatever contest could be fixed next.

Cedric followed Potter’s gaze and caught sight of an unfamiliar face on the staff benches.

“That must be the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher,” Alfred mused. “She looks – different.”

“That’s Dolores Umbridge,” Humphrey said, watching the terrified line of first years huddled before the dais. “Not sure what Dumbledore was thinking hiring her. Dad reckons she’s a toad.”

“I can see the resemblance.” Cedric muttered, all his vague plans to take his N.E.W.T now seeming to be in fresh doubt.

The Hall grew quiet as the Sorting hat was brought out. As it began to sing Cedric tuned out only to be snapped back to attention at the odd content of the song. The hat didn’t stick to its usual praise of the houses but instead focused on unity and togetherness. That was all very well and good, he thought to himself, as long as people actually practiced it instead of just saying they did.

He clapped the new Hufflepuffs, taking note of all the names that he wasn’t familiar with. Hufflepuff really did have a lot of Muggleborns. But then he could hardly blame Slytherin for wanting to preserve Magical culture when all the Muggleborns came from families who, at least in the past, generally preferred to burn Wizards.

“How does your Dad know Umbridge?” He asked once the main course had finally given way to puddings.

“She’s the Minister’s senior Undersecretary. He has to send reports to her every quarter.”

“What so she does Fudge’s paperwork?” Cedric frowned thoughtfully. He really would have to learn more about how the Ministry worked if he was going to go through with his idea of getting into politics after Hogwarts.

“More like she decides the paperwork he gets to see.” Maude interjected. “If she’s here it must mean they’re really bothered about Professor Dumbledore.”

Alfred shot Cedric a look that almost dared him to say something. Deciding that it wasn’t worth it Cedric raised his hands up in surrender. Alfred couldn’t understand even if he wanted to. Cedric had just finished passing a message down the table to Ernie and Hannah to get them to take the first years up when Dumbledore began speaking. Cedric wanted to ignore him out of sheer irritation at the man but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. The polite little cough of Professor Umbridge interrupting Dumbledore’s welcome speech was the best thing to happen to him that day. At least it was until she began to talk, and talk, and talk. At first it sounded hopeful, talk of reviews of school practices but eventually she drifted off into talk of policy and high ideals. He stopped paying attention a good third of the way through. When she finally stopped there was an awkward pause of at least five seconds before there was a smattering of applause and mutterings.

“Good luck in Defence against the Dark Arts this year,” Cedric grinned at Humphrey. 

“Given up on taking it after all then?”

“I’m not sure if she’s the kind of person I’m looking for in a teacher.” Cedric sighed, thinking back to Professor Moody and the elegant brutality of his spell work. How was he ever going to learn more if he was stuck in a school that wouldn’t let him study. Well, no there was an awful lot of study to come over the next few months that was true. But what was it all for? If he had learned anything from the Tournament it was that authority was corrupt and could not be trusted to provide justice or fairness.

The next few days were full of earnest lectures by each of his Professors about how important their particular subject was. Professor Snape made them concoct a Sobering Solution and then had McClaggen, that idiot Gryffindor, drink half a bottle of Fire Whiskey in order to test it. Lucky for McClaggen Cedric had actually managed a good enough solution to be effective. Charms had started off with a review of sealing spells and Cedric wished dearly for a couple of gulps of that Fire whiskey to dampen down some very unpleasant associations. Herbology was the best class, that term they were dealing with poisonous and venomous plants and that was something right up his alley.

He got to see Sebastian again on the Thursday of their first week when he had his first double Transfiguration lesson. Cedric wasn’t sure if the other boy would want to talk to him again after his Mum had gone full howler over a stupid joke and was quite relieved when Sebastian dumped his bag on the desk next to his and gave him that sharp smile.

“Good Summer, Diggory?”

“Look, I’m sorry about my Mum okay,” Cedric mumbled, “she’s all about rights and responsibilities. She means well.”

“I’m sure.” Sebastian paused again. “How about we move on from that. I know it wasn’t your fault I just thought it best to remove myself from an awkward situation. What do you think of Dolores?”

“Professor Umbridge?” Cedric fished around for something meaningful to say getting the sense he was supposed to have paid more attention than he did. “Oh, she’s okay I guess.”

“My Dad knows her from his Ministry work, calls her Salazar come again.”

Cedric snorted at that and quickly covered it up as Professor McGonagall entered the room and spent the next two hours convincing him he would probably fail any and every exam he ever took unless he swore undying devotion to the Library. He was glad that Sebastian had sat next to him because they got a partner assignment for homework that gave him a convenient change to talk more without any awkwardness about Alfred.

He had essays for Alchemy and Potions by the end of the week that were fiendishly difficult and threatened to destroy any opportunities he’d harboured about finding a way to practice his duelling. The only thing that kept him going until the second Saturday of term was the prospect of Quidditch try-outs. A lot of people were interested this year and even Humphrey had slipped his name in there to try for Seeker if only to make Cedric laugh when he read it. 

“Want to borrow my broom and give it a go?” Cedric deadpanned as he made his way through the team and sorted people into groups depending on the positions they wanted.

“Depends if you want it back intact really,” Humphrey mused, “and if I like my nose the shape it is now.”

“I dunno,” Alfred chucked a rolled-up scrap of parchment at Humphrey and landed it right between his eyes. “Chicks dig scars.”

“Not sure Umbridge is into scars.” Cedric commented mildly and the three of them all shared a look of dark amusement and glanced over towards the Gryffindor table. News had travelled quickly that Harry Potter had got himself put in detention for raving on about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named.

“I don’t want to think of Professor Umbridge as a chick ever.” Humphrey shuddered. “Speaking of Umbridge, do you know what we covered today? Caterwauling charms. We did those in our third year.”

“The whole place has gone mad.” Alfred nodded. “And look, that oddball Smith has put his name down to try out for your spot, Ced.”

“He can try if he wants to.” Cedric shrugged. Smith wasn’t a bad seeker, Cedric had to admit it, but still Cedric had years on him and proven match skill. Add to that the fact that he got a defining vote in selection and well, Cedric was fairly sure that young Zacharias would have to wait until next year.

So that was him playing Seeker, Alfred – unless he was considerably outshone by Hannah Abbott, would keep his spot but since both their Beaters left last year and one of the Chasers, Maude, wasn’t going to play this year because of her N.E.W.Ts there were still three new slots up for grabs.

Cedric took himself up on his broom on the afternoon of try-outs, taking advantage of the view to watch the way the various line ups played together. He’d suggested to Zacharias that he try out as a Chaser instead and was pleasantly surprised at how well the other boy could fly. Hannah performed well as goal keeper but tried out for Beater as well. She’d done well, too well in fact and had knocked Zacharias Smith clean off his broom. It would have been pretty nasty if Humphrey hadn’t been there to watch and cast a lightening quick cushioning charm. Still that was two more slots he was happy to consider filled. Another hour of flying drills later and Michael Cadwaller had won the final spot for Chasers that year and Maxine O’Flaherty, who broke one of the hoops with a particularly terrifying bludger hit, paired off with Hannah.  
They had a good team this year Cedric thought, looking around at them as they shook hands and grinned at one another. 

Three days after that peaceful afternoon of Quidditch the first articles in the Prophet began to appear about allegations of Dark Wizard activity. Cedric supposed they stuck out for him only because he was looking for any sign that he was about to be hauled out of Potions and off to Azkaban. 

There was a hysterical piece about someone claiming that Dementors had been sighted in Godric’s Hollow which everyone, except presumably Potter, laughed at and then it went quiet again for another week before the next big article appeared about some Wizards who had got drunk and gone around animating Muggle Cars to fly once their unsuspecting Muggle owners got in. They were facing time in Azkaban for endangering Muggles and breaking the Statute of Secrecy and everyone and their Hippogriff had an opinion about what, if any, penalty the men should face.

“This is getting serious.” Alfred said one day at breakfast, he’d borrowed a copy of the Prophet off Justin, another Hufflepuff Muggleborn, and was reading it with uncharacteristic focus and concern. “There’s a piece here from one of those Purity First people saying that Muggleborns are responsible for the attacks on Muggles in the first place.”

“What?” Humphrey scoffed, shuffling closer to read the words for himself. “How on earth does that even work?”

Cedric had forgotten about the pamphlet he’d collected from Purity First. It was probably lost somewhere at the bottom of his school trunk by now. 

“…by sowing discord and disruption among an already settled society,” Alfred read aloud, looking faintly disgusted, “these so-called Wizards and Witches are inviting the very violence and unrest they claim to so deride. A failure to properly integrate and a belief that they should profit off their unfortunate blood status rather than work to shed it are the core drivers of the problems that Wizarding society faces today. Purity First maintain our position that the Ministry should take a much more active role in supervising and guiding the Muggleborns that are so fortunate to inherit our gifts...”

“Yuck.” Maude commented and slipped her arm around Alfred’s shoulders. “My cousin was in Emmett Farnham’s year in Ravenclaw, said he always read too much and felt too little. Don’t worry Alf, they’ll never get any real power.”

“Well, who is letting them publish stuff like this?” Alfred retorted looking upset and unsettled.

“The Prophet is a business,” Cedric spoke up, “they just want people to read the paper. If they print this it doesn’t mean they believe it.”

“This is how it starts though,” Alfred continued, “My sister is doing her Post Grad in European History at UCL and she talks about this with Dad. The Nazis in Germany used to talk about national pride and culture at the start and by the end they had people rounded up and killed.”

“But this is now not like – ages ago,” Humphrey said in tones of absolute reasonableness. “It won’t happen here. No one believes that Muggleborns are any different.”

Cedric felt himself going red as Alfred looked straight at him. “You know I don’t think that.” He said defensively, “I’ve just been reading about history and politics. Is that a crime now?”

“Yeah, Alf,” Humphrey nodded. “Cedders had a few months back there where he drove us all a bit batty but it’s not fair to tar him with the same brush as those nutters.”

“I know,” Alfred sighed and pushed the paper back along the table towards Justin. “I know,” he repeated. “It’s just scary seeing people talk about these things like they are even an actual valid opinion you know. No one wants to be seen as human scum. I’m sorry, Ced, it wasn’t fair of me to imply you agree with those people.”

“It’s okay,” Cedric forced a smile, just glad to be able to avoid any further confrontation. “I’ll try to work on not driving you all insane.”

*

He met up with Sebastian to work on their Transfiguration Project one dreary Sunday afternoon. Human Transfiguration was perhaps some of the most challenging magic Cedric had ever attempted and they only had two more weeks to practice before they’d have to do their best to transfigure themselves into as close an approximation of the other as they could. 

They gave it up after two hours. Cedric was taller and ganglier than he had been when the afternoon started and he was pretty pleased with Sebastian’s attempt at his face, it was like looking at the brother he’d never had. 

“I reckon you’d make it into our common room looking like that,” he smiled and began to reverse some of the spell work, the expected headache hitting as his body found itself working harder than it needed to for a few seconds to get blood to his brain.

“Hmm, maybe, let’s see if you’d get into Ravenclaw Tower,” Sebastian smiled and stretched lithely, “Is truth a fiction?”

“What?” Cedric plucked at his hair to find the curls disappearing and rubbed his temples as the headache faded. “I don’t know, what does that even mean?”

“It’s our question for the day. For the Common Room.”

“Oh,” Cedric felt a little out of his depth, “so what’s the answer?”

This time there was mischief in Sebastian’s smile. “Is there one?”

Cedric cocked his head, thinking. “Well, if it’s a question it’s got to have an answer somewhere, surely?”

Sebastian nodded towards the Library door. “I’m heading back up to the dormitory before Supper. Want to give the answer a go?”

It had been a long time since Cedric had managed to sneak into another House Common Room. He smiled at the memory of the mad rush to escape before Filch and his cat had caught them and the looks of utter bafflement on the faces of the Gryffindors the next day when the whole of Slytherin House wanted to know why it was that their entire common room had been decorated in Red and Gold. It had been the Prank of the Year and Humphrey had always joked that Cedric had a secret Slytherin side after that. 

“Alright then,” he nodded and saw a genuine smile burst its way onto Sebastian’s face. “But if I’m too much of a Huffle Duffer to get in by myself then you have to promise to take pity on me.”  
Sebastian laughed at that. “Deal.”

Stairs were another reason Cedric was glad to be in Hufflepuff. He counted no less than six full sets of staircases before they final reached the base of what Cedric realised must be Ravenclaw Tower. He stifled a groan of complaint and thought of the Quidditch fitness he could maintain if he had to come up here every day. In between trying to avoid looking out of breath he was ticking over in his head how he was going to answer that question. He didn’t know why exactly but really didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself in front of Sebastian.

Sebastian finally stopped in front of a door with an eagle headed knocker. The metal bird blinked and opened its beak. The voice was soft, almost whimsical.  
“Is truth a fiction?”

Cedric felt his stomach flip nervously. “No. We can treat fictions as truths but if you treat a truth as fiction you will be reasoning incorrectly.”

“Acceptable,” the knocker responded. “However, beware the lure of glib arguments.” And with that the door swung open. 

Cedric stepped into the room and looked around taking in the shelves of books and high delicate arches of the roof. The view was probably worth the climb, he decided. There was only a scattering of students none of whom seemed particularly interested in their appearance.

“C’mon,” Sebastian beckoned him over to the entrance to the dormitories. Cedric followed, curious to see a little more of Ravenclaw House. Cedric liked his room back in Hufflepuff, it felt cosy. Cosy however, was not the word he would use to describe the large circular dormitory they emerged into.

“Aren’t you worried about getting us caught?”

“Getting you caught you mean?” Sebastian flopped down on a large four poster that Cedric took to be his bed. “I live here. And no, I don’t mean to get us caught as much as I might enjoy the scandal of being accused of having Hufflepuff’s pretty boy in my bed.”

Pretty boy? Cedric’s stomach gave another nervous flip when he realised exactly what Sebastian was implying.

“I’m not in your bed.” He pointed out. And in a fit of impulsive madness added. “Yet.”

Sebastian smiled, a little shyly this time and sat up, patting the space next to him. “You could try it out.”

Cedric felt every emotion he’d ever experienced from curiosity to fear to desire run through him in one rapid shiver. Everyone thought about trying it, right? That was normal. He felt like he was wading through water as he moved around the bed and sat down on the side of the mattress, swinging his legs up rest beside Sebastian.

“Feels pretty comfortable.” He said, as casually as he could manage. 

And then Sebastian Fawley kissed him.

It was different to kissing Cho, or any other girl for that matter, not that Cedric had much experience to start with. It didn’t feel bad though. He must have seemed a little taken aback because Sebastian pulled back after a few seconds and seemed about to say something before Cedric cut him off with a kiss of his own. Being in control felt easier and they stayed together like this for another quiet few minutes.

“You really are beautiful, Diggory,” Sebastian sounded more relaxed than Cedric had ever heard him before. “And thank you for not punching me.”

Cedric got back up and sat cross-legged on the bed facing Sebastian. “Punching you?”

Sebastian smiled lazily. “Well I didn’t really think you would but you never quite know until you try.”

“I liked it.” Cedric said honestly. “It was…different.”

A faint chiming sounded from Sebastian’s discarded cloak and he sighed. “The one drawback to giving myself an out if this all went wrong. We have about ten minutes to make our escape unless you want someone who doesn’t support our efforts at inter-house unity to spot us and get grumpy.”

They made their way down to the Great Hall and Cedric felt the strange bubble that had been the last few hours burst the second they entered the busy, noisy atmosphere. 

“I err…” he glanced towards the Hufflepuff table where Humphrey was waving him over and pointing to an empty seat on the benches. He turned back to Sebastian. “Come to the party after our Quidditch game this weekend?”

Sebastian looked like he was weighing it up and then nodded. “I will, thanks Diggory.”

Still not on first name terms then. Cedric nodded politely and turned in the direction of the Hufflepuff table. “See you then, Fawley.”

“Where have you been all afternoon?” Humphrey asked curiously as Cedric sat down. 

“I’ve got a Transfiguration assignment to do, Fawley’s my partner.”

“Poor you.” Alfred pulled a face and passed Cedric the bread rolls to go with the soup. “Though maybe he likes you since you’re Pureblood.”

Cedric shook his head and ignored the jibe. “I just want to pass my N.E.W.T. Anyway, tell me about how Dolores was today.”

That was enough to get a lively conversation going and Cedric could sit quietly in peace and try to work out how he felt about what had just happened. He, Alfred and Humphrey passed a quiet evening in the common room drinking cocoa between rounds of Checkers and no one said anything about politics or dark magic. For the first time that night since the Muggle had died Cedric slept peacefully without nightmares.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch for Hufflepuff and Cedric tries to reach out for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here again the scene with Professor Sprout took a few goes to get right. Through the whole fic I've tried to put in times where Cedric (and other characters) have a chance to make things better but for whatever reason don't. Very often when a person has privilege (here being a Pureblood and only Son) they don't face the full consequences of their choices and actions and this often just makes things much worse. I'm sorry Professor Sprout for making you the fall person here.

The following Saturday dawned cold and clear, good Quidditch weather. He was already in his Quidditch gear when he sat down at breakfast and looked around to find his friends looking unusually grave. He opened an Owl from his Mum, her normal letter to wish him luck on game day, she supposed and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Ced,  
I don’t want you to worry on a Quidditch day but I’m sure you’ll hear the news before the game and I’d like you to know that we are safe. We had Aurors from Magical Law Enforcement come to speak with us yesterday. Apparently, a Muggle in the village was murdered several weeks ago and they suspect Dark Wizards. Your Dad and I are fine and we’ve put protective charms on the house.  
All our love,  
Mum

An unpleasant cold sweat broke out over his whole body. He looked up from the letter to see his friends reading the headline of the Prophet.

DARK WIZARD STRIKES HEART OF WIZARDING VILLAGE: MUGGLE KILLED

“You’re from Ottery St Catchpole aren’t you, Ced?” Evelyn asked looking a little hesitant. “Have you heard from your…”

Cedric held up the letter from his Mother. “They’re okay.”

“Oh good,” she breathed a sigh of relief, “you looked like you’d had an awful shock. I was worried they were hurt.”

“Well, it’s – it’s home isn’t it.” He suddenly didn’t feel hungry at all. He looked about himself as if seeing it all for the first time and cursed himself for the idiot he’d been to go to that Muggle House. He had put everything at risk for one stupid moment of satisfaction. Alfred squeezed his shoulder and placed a piece of toast in front of him. 

“Fuck Dark Magic,” his friend smiled. “And fuck Fascist pricks. Let’s go play Quidditch.”

Cedric paid attention to the score only in passing as he circled high above the pitch, watching for the tell-tale glint of gold. Several hundred feet away on the far side of the pitch Cho was doing the same thing. He hadn’t talked to her at all since that day on the train. He let his gaze linger on her for a moment and returned back to searching. 

A cheer from below signalled another goal. Hufflepuff were holding up well and Alfred had saved a couple of very tricky shots. They were still three goals down though.

Another fifteen minutes and Cedric had to dodge as one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, was his name Corner, sent a Bludger whirling towards him. Hannah blurred past and deflected it back down towards the Ravenclaw goal keeper. That distraction earned them another goal. 

He wanted this to be done soon so he could find somewhere quiet to think. But then there was the party and he’d told Sebastian to come. 

“Diggory!” The shout came over the wind and he looked up to see Zacharias pointing to a spot in the centre of the pitch. Damn that kid for spotting the Snitch before he could. He glanced up. Cho hadn’t seen the gesture. He kept a sharp eye on the Snitch moving inexorably closer trying to make it look like he was just patrolling on look out and then dived. There was nothing like free-fall on a broom. He pulled up sharp at the last second and grabbed, feeling the small snitch beating fitfully against his fingers. Hufflepuff House went crazy. Cedric did another few loop the loops and dives to work off some of the adrenaline before descending down to join his team for the post-match handshakes. Cho smiled when they came face to face. 

“Good flying, Ced.”

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, “you too.”

And then they were moving on again until the ritual was over and done. He stayed in the sheds until everyone else had gone back up to the school, even Alfred who had stuck around trying to persuade him to come back up and have first drinks. The Snitch, still in his hand was trying to escape and as he sat and thought about the dead Muggle, he found himself having great sympathy with the little golden ball. Sooner or later someone was going to catch him too.

When he finally arrived back at the Common Room, he found Sebastian waiting outside looking apprehensive.

He looked up when he heard Cedric approaching and a look of relief bloomed over his features. “Thought you’d stood me up.” 

“You still want to come?” Cedric said, surprised. “After we just beat Ravenclaw?”

“Oh houses,” Sebastian made a dismissive gesture, “we’ll be out of here in eight months and then all that nonsense won’t matter anymore. It’s a tool to make us police each other anyway, Diggory, you’re a Prefect you should know that.”

Cedric pulled out his wand to rap the rhythm on the barrels and paused. “My friend Alfred, the keeper, is Muggleborn and, well he thinks you don’t like him because of it. If he says anything stupid could you please ignore him?”

Sebastian looked a little taken aback but gave him a quick smile and nodded. Cedric tapped out the password. The door to the common room swung open and Sebastian slipped in quietly ahead of Cedric.  
The party was in full swing with a couple of Violins and Flutes playing a merry tune all by themselves in one corner. Cedric was pushed forward by a group of happy people towards the centre of the room where Alfred and the rest of the team lounged like royalty. A drink was pressed into his hands and, with only a fraction of a pause from a surprised Ernie MacMillan, Sebastian was greeted with the kind of welcoming openness that only a sporting victory allows towards a vanquished opponent. 

Cedric felt like he was a puppet controlling his own strings. Outside he carried on perfectly normally making jokes and small talk and replaying the victorious capture of the snitch. Inside, his mind was filled with an anxious dread about the Muggle, his parents and the Aurors who sooner or later would work out that he’d need to be questioned. Did he have a hope of escaping this?

He caught Sebastian trying to make awkward conversation with Alfred once or twice and wondered what was going to happen with him as well. Did he want to kiss him again it had been nice but if he did then what did that mean? What about Cho, he wasn’t really that much over her either and speaking to her today, however briefly had hammered that home enough.

It was past midnight when Alfred finally got up and headed away, Humphrey had found himself one of the sixth-year girls to have a dance with an hour or so ago and then had gone off who knew where. 

“Well, I suppose I should run the gauntlet.” Sebastian grunted and stretched. “I’ll probably get detention if I’m caught, you realise?”

“Could be worse, at least you’re not looking at Azkaban.” Cedric’s laugh felt hollow and Sebastian looked at him a little strangely.

“I’m not sure even Professor Umbridge would sentence me to Azkaban for being out of my House Dormitory after hours.”

“Probably not,” Cedric agreed, stepping out into the dark quiet of the corridor to bid Sebastian good night. “Thanks for coming. I think Alfred may even be starting to like you.”

They faced one another awkwardly for another few seconds and then both seemed to decide at the same time. It wasn’t the same charged kind of kiss as the first one had been but it had a familiar and comforting feel to it. 

“I’ll see you in the Library tomorrow afternoon?” Sebastian murmured.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Cedric gave him one last hug and they broke apart. “Well, goodnight.”

*  
Cedric was only a few paces back inside the common room when the door opened again. Alfred was standing there, carrying a plate of cakes and a jug of Butter Beer in his hands and an expression of surprise on his face.

“When were you going to tell us that you’d started pashing on with Fawley?”

“Well,” Cedric shrugged and sat back down again. “It’s not really pashing on yet. We’ve just…I dunno… kissed a bit. Does it matter?”

“It does if he’s the reason you’ve gone all strange.” Alfred sat too, looking distracted and fidgeting with a frayed thread in his robe. “I’ve told you before his family is a big part of the Ministry faction that wants people like me gone.”

“I’ve not ‘gone strange’,” Cedric retorted, feeling irritated at Alfred’s implication that he should have to justify his friendships if they didn’t meet with the approval of Alfred himself. “And Sebastian isn’t like that. He’s…different.”

“You’ve been strange since that stupid lake thing.” Alfred said frankly. “And lately it’s only getting worse. All that stuff about Muggleborns. I know you’re thinking it even if you don’t say it.”

“Oh bullshit.” Cedric caught his voice rising and deliberately tried to bring it back down. “What even does that mean? Are you trying to tell me off for what you THINK I believe now as well?”

“No,” Alfred looked a little taken aback at Cedric’s sudden blaze of temper. “Look I’m sorry that was a stupid thing to say of course I don’t know what you’re thinking all the time but…I guess I’m trying to tell you that these new friends you’re making aren’t good for you. Humphrey and I think that…”

Cedric could feel his temper really catching flame now. He stood sharply, fingers twitching with the urge to reach for his wand. “Go on, tell me what you and Humphrey think.”

“Ced, sit down mate.” Alfred was still sat, maddeningly calm and reasonable. “We were going to talk to you about it in the morning. I was just surprised to see you with Fawley like that, that was all. Why don’t we get some sleep and in the morning talk it over properly?”

“No,” Cedric snapped. “No, I will not sit down and no I will not listen nicely while an idiot and a Muggleborn who doesn’t know any better tell me who I can and cannot speak to. Neither of you have any idea what I’ve been through this last year. Sebastian is the only person who hasn’t given me shit for trying to make it better. If you don’t like him then that’s too bad for you.”

“We do know Cedric; we’ve been right here with you the whole time.” Alfred sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you. I’m tired and I’m going to bed. If you want to talk things over in the morning I’ll be waiting. If you don’t then…yeah.”

*  
The following morning Cedric didn’t get up when he heard Alfred leave their room. He waited until very nearly the end of Breakfast before he finally entered the hall. He shook off the few people who still wanted to congratulate him on his Quidditch victory, wolfed down some porridge and then went to the library alone and worked on his essay until Sebastian appeared. 

For once he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to the Common Room and so they spent a leisurely afternoon ‘touring the library’ as Sebastian had termed it. Cedric stamped down hard on any guilty thoughts that appeared prompting him to talk to Alfred, a task made easier by the distractions that Sebastian and this new side to their friendship provided him.

Over the next few days, the pattern of his routine changed only in that it was lessons and not the library that he chose to use as a way of avoiding Alfred and Humphrey. At first, he hoped that they would come to him and let him avoid swallowing some of his increasingly bitter pride but; as the first week passed followed by the second and they didn’t make any moves towards him his hope was replaced first by sadness and then by resentment. With no one else to tell him otherwise he managed to convince himself fairly successfully that this was all their fault anyway.

Three weeks before the end of term was when everything began to fall apart in earnest.

The hunt for the supposed Dark Wizard was now all over the front page of the Daily Prophet. A known Muggle murderer was loose and people were scared. Cedric spent the last few days of the Christmas term in a state of near constant fear and anxiety. They were coming for him. He wasn't a Dark Wizard and he'd been beyond stupid to imagine himself as anything more than an arrogant kid. He couldn't hide himself from the Aurors in Magical Law Enforcement. 

Alfred and Humphrey noticed, there was no way they couldn't have with six solid years of friendship behind them even if at the moment they weren’t speaking to him. Cedric had caught them once or twice in the corner of the common room whispering quietly together and very obviously avoiding looking at him. His school work was starting to suffer too and he found himself lying awake at night unable to sleep unless the Muggle Woman appeared in his dreams. He didn't want to and more precisely didn't know how to talk to anyone about the maelstrom in his head and so took to many varied ways of avoiding anyone and everyone until long after he really should have been back in the common room.

This particular night found him in the Library until late, poring through textbooks on Magical Injuries. He had scoured the shelves in the hope of finding something to tell him that he would be okay, that he hadn't broken himself forever by killing another human being but any and all books about that particular subject were nowhere to be found. If this was last year, he'd have talked to Professor Moody, he'd have understood.

"Mr Diggory," it was Madame Pince, already dressed in slippers and a night coat. "I'll be locking the doors shortly."

His head ached. He sighed and set the book back on the shelf heading towards the dimly lit corridors. He was tired of being afraid. Maybe if he gave himself up this terrible feeling would stop and he could work on making it right again. He pulled his watch out of his robes and peered at it. Half past eight. It wouldn't be too late to check and see if Professor Sprout was in her office. Maybe she could talk to Professor Dumbledore; he would know what to do.

Her office door was slightly ajar and warm yellow light lapped at the edges of the shadows. Cedric hesitated for just a moment and then knocked softly. "Professor?"

Her clear and hearty, 'come in' came immediately and he pushed the door open with a nervous twist of his stomach. The last time he'd been in this room it was the day she had given him detention with Professor Moody. She gave him a friendly smile. "What can I do for you, Diggory?"

"Well," and all at once his reckless courage in deciding to come here left him in a rush. "Well something's happened Professor and it's pretty bad. I - I don't know what to do." He stopped himself there, surprised to find himself fighting back the urge to cry.

Professor Sprout's smile wavered as she looked him over. "Come now, Diggory, it can't be all that bad."

"No what I mean is...what would you do Professor, if someone you knew had done something by accident and... well it was going to ruin their life."

She sat back in her chair and regarding him critically. "If this is about that ridiculous prank that Zacharias Smith thought appropriate to play on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team then I assure you Diggory that although Mr Smith's life is not ruined, he will nonetheless become well acquainted with the contents of Professor Flitwick's filing cabinets."

Cedric felt like he could scream with frustration but he had to stay calm; he had to try. "No, Professor please it's nothing like that - I - I want to help them but I don't know how."

"Is this person in Hufflepuff House?" She said calmly, "if so then I'd be happy to speak to them in person rather than through a go-between, however noble their intentions."

The conversation stood on a cliff top. Cedric took a deep breath and stepped off into the void. "I killed that Muggle, Professor. The one the Prophet is talking about. It was me."

Professor Sprout went the colour of whitewash. There was a scrape as she shoved her chair hastily back away from him. "What?" she said faintly, looking and sounding completely thunderstruck.

"It was an accident," he continued, relief at finally being able to speak about making everything suddenly flow out of him. "I never wanted to hurt her. I just wanted to scare her. I was stupid. She threw some potion in my face and I didn't see what happened. It was my shield charm - I think when it knocked her over, she hit her head and died."

"Don't say such things, Diggory, don't you know what it could mean? It - you'd be expelled, your parents...your future prospects."

"It was an accident." He repeated. "I thought perhaps if I told you then - then maybe I could start to make it right."

"There is no making it right." Professor Sprout looked down and hunted for a quill. "I can't believe it." She mumbled, more to herself now than to Cedric. "Surely not," she looked back at him and when she spoke her tone was hesitant. "You are quite certain that the Muggle was killed by your spell."

"Yes," Cedric said immediately and then paused. "Well, I didn't see it happen."

"So, you are not certain?"

"He shook his head. "I know that I cast a spell and the next thing she was lying there..." Cedric paused to collect himself and scrub his palms over his tired eyes. "She's dead because of me."

A little of the colour was returning to Professor Sprout's face now and she seemed to have recovered from the shock. "Diggory, you know that I should take this to the Headmaster. You realise the consequences that you will face if this comes to light. If you are convicted you will go to Azkaban."

A cold shiver of pure fear dripped its way down Cedric's spine at the mention of Azkaban. " I want to turn myself in before it's too late."

Professor Sprout looked at him strangely. "Cedric," she said sounding, if such a thing were possible, too kind. "You are a good boy from a caring family. I don't want you to throw your life away for a mistake when you're not even certain you are responsible. " She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. " So, I - I am willing to overlook this conversation."

Cedric was so stunned that for a few seconds he couldn’t speak. "Professor?"

"Madame Pomfrey has some excellent remedies for anxious demeanours," Professor Sprout continued as if she hadn't even heard his response. She scribbled out a note on the paper in front of her. "Take this to her now and she will be able to give you something to help. You look worn thin, Diggory. You need a good night's sleep."

Cedric took the note and folded it carefully. "I really think that I should..."

"You should go to the Hospital Wing and then try to put this behind you. It's a great shame when a person dies but Merlin knows the world has enough injustice and pain already without destroying another young life for no gain. Go home Mr Diggory and have a good Christmas. Come back rested."

Cedric took advantage of the note in his pocket to wander the halls for another hour before finally making his way to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey opened the door to his knock and made a sympathetic noise at the sight of him.

“Come in Diggory,” she said briskly, casting her eye over Professor Sprout’s note, “you’re not the first and you’ll not be the last.”

Cedric took the potion he was offered gratefully and drank it down before getting up to leave. Madame Pomfrey shook her head and gave him a brief smile. “Oh no you don’t. I bet you’ve got another essay you want to finish before the end of the night. No, you can stay right here and I’m prescribing a hearty full breakfast in the morning as well. You look peaky.”

The calming draught was already taking effect and Cedric didn’t want to argue anymore. He let himself be led to bed and collapsed fully dressed onto the soft mattress. The following day he returned to Hufflepuff’s basement only long enough to collect his Trunk. In a moment of vain hope, he looked into Humphrey’s room and wondered if now would be too late to start again but it was empty. They must have gone ahead on the train back to London.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An arrest, an imprisonment, desperation and some hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the heaviest chapter in terms of content in the whole story. I was trying to say a lot of things here - that imprisonment must be humane, that punishment can destroy a person if we focus on it over rehabilitation and that sometimes the justice system isn't fair. I've tried to be respectful and realistic regarding his breakdown. Very sadly a person is often at most risk of suicide immediately after they feel a bit better. What Culpepper says is also true - that we can't stop someone if they are absolutely determined but that there is always hope and help available. If you are reading this and feeling at risk please reach out.

It was a strange sort of home-coming. His Dad met him at the station and they Apparated to just outside the village and walked in from there. The charms that his parents had put on the house to protect against Dark Wizards, against as it turned out, their own son meant that they couldn’t just Apparate straight into the kitchen anymore.

He walked into the sitting room to find his Mum there putting the finishing touches to the tinsel on the Christmas tree. 

“Hello, love,” She wrapped him in a hug and pulled back frowning. “You’re awfully thin.”

He hadn’t been eating much that was true. In between trying to avoid Alfred and Humphrey and the pressure of homework he just hadn’t made it a priority.

“Well, we’ll soon fix that won’t we Ophelia. Made your favourite, Ced.” His Dad said encouragingly. “Pork chops and all the trimmings.”

“Thanks,” Cedric said plastering a smile onto his face. “Can I go and clean up first?”

Upstairs in his bedroom he turned over every photo he had of Alfred, Humphrey and him. The one of Cho that he’d taken in the fairy lights at the Yule Ball fared even worse and got blasted into dust. Then there was the photograph of him and Fidget as kitten and kid. If only Fidget was still here then none of this would be happening. Cedric picked up the picture, sat down on his bed with it cradled against his chest and began to sob.

“Cedric,” his Mum opened his door hesitantly. “I just came to see why you weren’t down for dinner yet.” She sat down beside him and hugged him one-armed, stroking his hair like he was six years old with a scraped knee. “Please talk to me, whatever it is…your Dad and I can help.”

“Mum, I’ve…” he took a deep shuddering breath. “I’ve done something really bad. Something that I can’t take back.”

He looked into her worn, caring face and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I…”

“Ophelia,” his Dad’s voice sounded urgently up the spiral stairs from the Kitchen. “Could you come down here please.”

His Mum squeezed his shoulder apologetically. “Not now Amos, the dinner can wait a moment.”

“Now.” Cedric stiffened at the sudden fear and anger in his Dad’s voice. “And tell Cedric to stay there.”

She stood, frowning back at him in confusion for a moment. Cedric felt frozen in place as he watched her leave and had to will himself to stand and go to the window. There were five Ministry Wizards in his Dad’s herb garden. If this situation wasn’t so desperately serious, he would have laughed at the ridiculousness of sending that many Aurors after him. He hadn’t even left Hogwarts yet.

The next footsteps he heard on the stairs didn’t belong to either his Mum or Dad. 

A tall Wizard with a sternly cropped grey beard entered the room wand out, followed by a much younger man who, Cedric realised with a start, was John Dawlish. Cedric had taken over the position of Seeker in his second year from Dawlish after he had left school but Dawlish showed no sign of recognition.

“Give us your wand, son.” The older one said gravely, “best that we do this peacefully and it will go better for you in your trial.”

Cedric handed it over with cold fingers, feeling very small and very powerless indeed. 

“Good lad,” the older man pocketed Cedric’s wand with a business-like air. “Let’s go downstairs for the paperwork before we leave, shall we? I’m sure you’ll want to explain this to your parents.”

His Mum was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. “Cedric,” she moved aside to let the Aurors enter the sitting room, looking like she wanted to burst into tears. “Tell them this is all a mistake.” 

Cedric had been dreading this moment for weeks but now it was happening he felt surprisingly calm. There was no hope of running, no hope of escaping this.

“It was an accident Mum.” He said quietly. “She was one of the ones who ran Fidget over. I went to talk to her and…and it went wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Now then,” the grey bearded Wizard raised a hand. “Let’s have no more discussion before I’ve read you the charges and your rights.” He cleared his throat and pulled out a pair of spectacles to read from the paper he produced from his right breast pocket.

“Cedric Diggory, I, Jebadiah Proudfoot, in my capacity as an Auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement hereby charge you with breach of the International Statute of Secrecy, Malicious use of magic against Muggles and the Murder of the Muggle Jane Stuart on or about August 30th of this year.”

Proudfoot pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed one to him. “This is your copy, son.” Cedric took it and looked down at the parchment with the charges listed in damning red ink.

“Furthermore,” Proudfoot continued. “Know that from this point on anything that you say can be used in Court to determine the length and nature of the punishment you may receive if found guilty. Due to the seriousness of your alleged offence you will be taken from this place to Azkaban where you will be held until a date for your trial is determined. As a person charged, but not yet proven guilty of the offences listed, you have the right to challenge the decision of the Department for you to be held in Azkaban.”

“I do challenge it then,” his Mum cut in furiously. “He’s eighteen years old. You can’t send a child to Azkaban.”

“Mr Diggory is of age.” Proudfoot said carefully, “and must face the consequences of the law as would any other person over the age of seventeen.”

“Madame Diggory,” Dawlish, said, “if you could please come into the kitchen, we can talk this through.” He gave Cedric a very hard look indeed as he took Cedric’s Mother by the elbow and led her away.

Next to the tall broad shouldered Aurors his Dad looked shrunken and seemed to shrink further as Proudfoot pulled out a set of shackles and gave Cedric a look. Cedric, not wanting this to be any worse than it already was, put out his hands obediently and instantly felt the heavy pull of the metal as it locked into place. 

“But…but…” his Dad began, “he’s my only son. Please don’t take him.”

His Dad’s bluster, always a source of faint embarrassment for Cedric before now, suddenly seemed incredibly sad and poignant as, with a gentle but firm push to the small of his back, Cedric was led out into the front garden. Cedric could do nothing but shake his head, he couldn’t look his Dad in the face. He wished he’d been able to talk to them before this. How would they ever forgive him. 

“It was an accident.” He repeated. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Azkaban then Jeb?” Dawlish said conversationally. “Wonder how long it’ll be before he screams for his Mum.”

“Don’t antagonise the lad,” the older man said calmly. “He’ll have his day in court same as them all.”

“I hope they leave him there and forget about him.” Dawlish continued in the same off-hand tone. “My Wife is Muggleborn. I don’t want my son growing up in a world controlled by scumbags like him.”

Those were the last real human words that Cedric heard. The Dementors were waiting by the jetty. Dawlish shoved Cedric forward with far less care than Proudfoot had shown and he almost fell face first in the mud before being yanked up by the chains holding his wrists. The Dementors did not speak and pointed up the short staircase to the main door of the prison. He didn’t have a choice about moving as the first of the creatures abruptly began to drift its way up the steps. Cedric set off already feeling numb with cold and dread. He turned to see if the Aurors were still there but was again pulled forward hard into the forbidding entrance to the main prison.

How could he have been so stupid? What would his friends say when they heard about this? What would Sebastian say?

*  
His Cell was two paces across and four from door to furthest wall and was lit by one tiny barred window set eight feet above the head of his bed and bed was a pretty generous description. It was a slightly raised ledge with a large sack of lumpy straw for the mattress and another smaller sack of lumpy straw for the pillow. It smelled of mildew and after the first night he had bites all over his body from the lice he didn’t see until it was too late.

There was water for drinking and washing and a grated pit in the ground for him to relieve himself that he avoided using until he could stand it no longer. Food appeared through a hatch in the bottom of the door each day. The first night he hadn’t been able to eat anything and then it had been a long ravenous wait for the tasteless grey meat and chunks of swede that appeared the next day.

At first, he was persecuted by thoughts of Hogwarts, the bathrooms especially and the long luxurious hours he’d spent in his fourth year when the luxuries of swimming pool sized bubble baths had been a novelty. It was getting harder to feel any hope at all. After a while though when he didn’t have any more tears left in him, he started to train himself out of thinking about home. 

For the first week he thought he could hear the sounds of other prisoners around him. Then one night he awoke to a cold deeper than any he’d ever felt and the tall figure of a Dementor watching him through his open cell door. He had been too terrified to even scream. After what seemed like forever it had gone. He didn’t hear anyone else after that. Maybe the Dementors had taken them.

He wasn’t sure when he stopped marking the days on the wall with the remnants of his bitten down fingernails but there had been twenty-one marks on the wall when he’d counted them after missing some days and he’d never started up again.

Three weeks and no word about how long he was going to be here. 

There was no point anymore. 

That was when he’d first started to hear the laughter. At first it had only been in his dreams but now it was all the time. A horrible mocking cacophony of amusement at his failures. He tried to shut them out by covering his ears. When that hadn’t quieted them; he had yelled and cursed until he was hoarse but it didn’t matter. They just kept laughing. 

Sometimes he heard Alfred and Humphrey. At first, he thought it must be real, that they were coming to get him out of here and tell him it would all be okay. He had rushed to the door and pressed his ear to the wood desperate for any sound of a friendly human being.

He could hear them laughing now right along with the rest of those bastards. 

Potter and those fucking Gryffindors. They’d got to Cho and to his friends. That was why Cho had rejected him and Alfred and Humphrey had turned against him. Sebastian was the worst of them though, whispering poison and hatred in his ear even as Cedric buried his head in the straw pillow to deaden it out.

One day he woke to find the Muggle woman he had killed lying lifeless in the middle of the narrow room, leering up at him with her dead eyes. He’d screamed for someone to come and take her away but no one came. 

They didn’t care about him. They were going to leave him to rot in here with her.

She left that first time and then would reappear, laughing at him from a corner in the darkness of night and dragging her rotting limbs over the stone floor. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be here.  
Sometimes in between the laughter he could hear them talking to one another, muttering in low voices about how they had seen it coming, how they’d been watching him for years, waiting for him to fall. Once or twice it had even felt like Cho was standing just behind him, sneering about him to her friend Marietta. Or his Mother talking to his Father about what they would do now their son had ruined them.  
The meal and the lazy passage of spring sunshine across the topmost past of his cell were the only things that marked the time which otherwise stretched out in one long stretch of black nothing.

There was too much time.

He didn’t know when he had started to pace so much that there was dust worn from the floor from his feet. He just wanted to sleep. For it to end. 

*  
Eventually of course, someone had to come. 

He woke to the sound of the cell door opening and the light of a lamp casting a warm glow across the damp stone walls. After so many weeks in semi darkness he had to squint to adjust to the brightness.

“Hello, Cedric.” The voice sounded friendly but he didn’t respond to it. He didn’t trust anything he saw or heard these days. “My name is Junia Fawley, a group I represent have engaged me to be your counsel at your trial. I’ve come to discuss your case.”

She was looking at him strangely now that the light was filling the small space. He couldn’t work out if it was disgust or pity.

Sebastian’s voice sounded six inches from his ear. “God Diggory, look at you, don’t you have any self-respect? My mother comes in here to help you and for what? You’re pathetic. You murdering little piece of shit.” Cedric flicked irritably at the air, trying to get Sebastian to go away.

“Tell them to stop laughing.” Cedric was surprised at the sound of his own voice, it sounded thin and weak.

“No one is laughing, Cedric.” She said quietly. “It’s just you and I here.”

“I can HEAR them,” he snarled, turning away from her and retreating back as far away as he could. “I KNOW they’re laughing.”

At that Junia Fawley stood up and went to the door and went to the door of the cell. He didn’t hear what she said but then there was a sudden burst of bright clear white light that outshone even the lamp which slowly coalesced into the shining outline of an owl. For the first time in weeks the void inside him seemed less empty. It was like taking a full breath after a long illness.

She handed him a packet of something wrapped in foil. “Eat that. You look like you need it.”

The chocolate felt too rich after weeks of barely adequate meals but he nibbled at it nonetheless. After five minutes of that along with the Patronus the laughter that had plagued him wasn’t gone exactly but it was much further away, like it was coming a party several fields away at home.

“I’m so sorry you’re here like this,” Madame Fawley said briskly, tapping her briefcase smartly and stepping back as it transformed into a fully equipped desk. “It’s an outrage. A clear misuse of detention.”  
“What’s the date?” Cedric asked nervously, coughing as crumbs of chocolate stuck in his dry throat.

“March 3rd.” She dipped a quill in an ink-well and began writing furiously. “I am preparing a submission to have you released from Azkaban immediately and subject to confinement at your parent’s house.”  
He felt a flare of hope at that and then an equal stab of terrible pain at the thought of his Mother. 

“Are they…”

“They are well and safe.” She sighed. “I’m afraid you were an unfortunate victim of circumstance, Mr Diggory. The Ministry wants to show they are protecting the public and since they can’t catch any real criminals, they are picking on school children instead.”

“You know I did it. Right?” He said dully. “I confessed to it.”

“I know that you did a stupid, reckless and foolish thing that I am sure you sincerely regret.” She was looking at him frankly now and he found that he had to look away. “I also know, from talking to several people involved, “that you did not intend to kill the Muggle and that there were a large number of extenuating circumstances; not least your mental state and extreme youth, that indicate a charge far below that of murder. I am especially displeased that they have indicated here,” she stabbed savagely at a paragraph with her quill, “that your motivation was a dislike and hatred of muggles and I believe we can argue against that quite well.”

She sat at her desk and set two quills to scribbling furiously. “If you sign these then I am fairly certain that the trial can be over by Easter.”

“Hatred of Muggles? I don’t…” What had been happening while he was in here. And then his brain seized on the first real hope he’d felt in months. “Easter?”

“April 7th,” she gave a slight frown as she looked around the cell. “A little over four weeks. But we should hear about the bail arrangements before then.”

She left a little while after that and the cell returned to darkness and silence around him, the low rumble of the whispers and laughter returned slowly too. In the spartan furnishings the chocolate she had left for him was easy to spot behind the place where her desk had been. He moved painfully from his bed to the far wall of the cell and grabbed it before it could disappear.

He ran his fingers over the neat bright lines of the foil and paper packaging. Had he really ever taken food like this for granted?

“You know she probably poisoned it right?” Alfred’s disembodied voice commented from over his left shoulder. “I would have if it was me. No one wants you out of here. They want you to die in here.”  
Cedric ignored the voice. Arguing with them only made them more hateful. 

“And even if you do get out of here,” That was Potter. Potter was the worst. “Your life is already over anyway. You think anyone is ever going to let you hold a wand again? Maybe they’ll let you sweep the gutters in Diagon Alley if you’re lucky.”

He felt the room grow cold and the rattle of terrible indrawn breath that meant the Dementors were nearby. He had to stop thinking of outside. Those creatures fed on hope. 

“Not that you’ve got any of that left, Diggory.” Sebastian commented and then faded back into the buzzing hum of the laughter as the Dementor moved away towards the next victim who dared do anything except despair.

He let himself have one precious square of the chocolate and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

*  
Two more weeks passed before they finally came to bring him out. There was no Dawlish this time just a young woman with bright blue hair and a Rabbit Patronus gambolling in her wake. 

“Let’s go, Diggory.”

Cedric waited a few seconds for the warmth of the Patronus to convince him this wasn’t just another awful joke that his mind was playing on him and then got stiffly to his feet. She put the cuffs on him just like they had all those months ago and gave him a critical look.

“Can you walk?”

He didn’t want to meet those bright blue eyes. He looked down, feeling small and pathetic. “Don’t know.”

He managed it in the end. Slowly, through sheer force of will, but he did it all the same. There were a group of Wizards in pale green robes waiting at the end of the jetty. 

“Merlin’s Beard you were a long time. I thought you’d got lost in there, Tonks.” One of them commented, glancing nervously around, “let’s get out of here. I hate this place.”

“Kid can barely walk.” The woman, Tonks, nodded at him. “Come on, once we get to the secure ward, I can let you get on with it.”

“What’s happening?” Cedric muttered, shying away from a kind faced witch who passed a wand over the front of his face and frowned at whatever she found there.

“Here we are, son,” a Wizard who was just about as wide as he was tall pressed a potion vial into his hands and helped him lift the weight of the cuffs enough to drink it. “Just a little strengthening solution, not sure you’d make the trip without it.”

The Witch did the sweep with the wand again and nodded towards Tonks and the Healer who had given him the potion. 

“I’ll take him,” Tonks said, gripping tightly around Cedric’s upper arm. “Until we do the handover to you, he’s officially my responsibility.”

Cedric had been to St Mungo’s only once before as a small boy when he’d eaten a pile of attractive brown looking beans that, despite appearances, turned out to not be chocolate after all but a rather deadly root from an obscure South American rainforest plant. On that visit he’d come in the main entrance and had been treated on the cheery children’s ward. He wondered what that younger version of himself would have made of the sight of him now, being quietly hurried in the back entrance in chains.

*

At first all he did was sleep. There were no nightmares and no voices in this sleep and he wished it could have gone on forever. 

Sadly it didn’t and once he’d roused long enough to be able to confirm he knew his name and where he was they allowed a pretty young Witch, one of the trainee healers, he supposed, to show him down the wide carpeted hallways and let him sink into a deep hot bath. That had felt good.

He couldn’t eat the plates of food they brought him. He wanted to but it wouldn’t stay down. The first time he’d caught a glance at himself in the mirror over the sink in his room he didn’t’ recognise the hollow face and blank eyes that looked back at him.

Someone had brought him a Calendar in Wasps colours.

“Why would they bother doing a thing like that?” Potter commented quietly from somewhere just out of sight. “For a loser of a thing like you.”

He still wasn’t allowed to leave his hospital room without supervision and when the door opened to admit Healers or Mediwizards he could see the Auror standing guard at the entrance.

“Just try and run.” Sebastian would say every now and against the comforting background of real human voices. “They’d love the excuse to make it look like an accident. Go on, do it.”

He had been so blank for so long that coming back to himself seemed unbearable. The Potions they gave him helped and but not in the way he wanted them to. He hated that the Healers had to sit with him for a whole sleepless night and couldn’t bear to see the pity in their faces when he finally coughed and hiccupped himself to an end of the tears that just never seemed to want to stop flowing.

They seemed pleased with his progress though. Healer Culpepper, the one who had come to Azkaban, greeted him with the same kindly cheer day after day even if Cedric could barely muster a hello. The day that he asked his first unprompted question; who had won the Quidditch league that year, they told him that the Ministry had allowed his parents to visit the following day.

That night he tried to kill himself. 

Hanging really was much harder than he thought it would be. And he hadn’t expected the pain and the pounding in his head nor for his treacherous fingers to claw at his neck trying to loosen the noose in those final few seconds before the blackness took him.

He was more than a little angry when he woke up several hours later. He kicked and punched and when that had failed, sunk his teeth into the Healers who were working so hard to save him. 

“You know, Cedric,” Healer Culpepper said the next morning after he’d given his usual kindly smile. “I was really quite relieved to see you still had some fight in you.”

“Why are you even bothering with me?” Cedric spat back. “My life is already over. Do you really think you can stop me if I want to do it?”

Culpepper shot a sideways look towards the Auror who now haunted the end of Cedric’s bed and sighed. “You are correct, of course, that we cannot prevent you from leaving this life. We can delay it perhaps but that is all.”

Something about the way Culpepper said the words struck Cedric in a way he couldn’t quite explain even later looking back at it. He remembered the feel of them as they echoed around the bare and blasted landscape of his mind bringing with them a long absent hope.

“It’s too hard.” He said quietly, as if he were eight years old again and struggling with a sum on the blackboard in the kitchen at home.

“After sixty years working in this hospital, Cedric.” Culpepper’s tone was gentle but firm. “I have seen much death and much suffering. I have seen Wizards nearing their two-hundredth year fight and rail against death as if it is their enemy and not the friend it should be. I have seen five-year old children afflicted with intractable hereditary curses die with peace and dignity clutching their favourite stuffed toy. In all these cases and the ones that lie between them; those who bear it best are the ones who near the end of life knowing they have lived it well, whatever the span of years allotted to them. My question to you is not do you find life too hard; it is this; have you lived it well?”

Cedric couldn’t look Culpepper in the eyes. “I’d have thought that was obvious.” 

“It is not up to me to answer that question on your behalf, Cedric. It is not up to anyone besides yourself. The Court will meet and determine a consequence to choices you have made so far, that much is certainly in their power. But they cannot tell you what you feel to be a worthy and well lived life.” 

The sudden memory of sitting in Professor Sprout’s office and trying to tell her he wanted to make it right hit him with an almost physical force. He had wanted to make it right then. He had believed it was possible. 

“Think on it, my boy.” Culpepper looked as if he could read the thoughts running through Cedric’s brain as easily as if they were lit up like firecrackers. 

Cedric knew that his parents would be expecting the worst and so, to him at least, the smile of pure relief that lit up his Father’s face when he saw Cedric, washed, shaven and sitting nervously in the armchair beside his bed was worth all the gold in Gringotts.

Cedric had managed to get out an apology before the tears, even now never far beneath the surface, spilled over again. He hugged his parents for a long time feeling the dull blank fill in yet a little more for every passing second. All through it the Auror was watching them stony faced and eagled eyed for any sign of trying to aid his prisoner.

“We were so worried,” his Mother kept repeating, mopping at her eyes and apologising for it. “It was so awful thinking of you there all by yourself.”

“It’ll be alright son,” his Dad said softly, fixing the Auror with a hard stare. “Junia has been keeping us up on the case. You’ve got some good friends there.”

‘Goodness I regret every time I ever disparaged Emmett Farnham’s name,” his Mother added. “The things some people are saying, Ced, it’s just awful. If they knew you then they’d never dare to think it.”

It was strange to get news of the real world again, to hear about normal things. Sebastian hadn’t abandoned him at all instead he had written to the Diggorys as soon as news Cedric’s arrest had hit the Prophet offering his support. He didn’t ask about Alfred or Humphrey, that still felt too painful to think about.

“Professor Sprout came to the house,” his Dad said a little too heartily, “gave me some good tips on the Witch-hazel and…” he paused and then continued, his voice a little harder than before, “apologised to us.”  
“You were asking for help.” His Mum looked angry. “What on earth was she thinking. I hope she gets removed from her position.”

They talked a lot about the support that had been offered. His whole legal defence was being covered by Purity First along with a lot of pro-bono work by Junia Fawley to allow him the best chance he would get at freedom. The Diggorys were an old family and it seemed other old families were more than willing to lend support when the chips were down. 

“Well not everyone,” his Mum said almost reluctantly. “Molly Weasley and I used to swap knitting patterns you know and well…she’s not exactly said I’m unwelcome but…”

Cedric wondered if he would ever be able to apologise enough to his parents and then abruptly tried to stamp down a familiar wave of despair as it rose up. The deed was done and over, he couldn’t change that. The only thing he could change was everything that happened from now on.

They kept a close watch on him after his parents were escorted out long before either they or Cedric were ready for them to leave. He wouldn’t see them again the court was ready to pass sentence. Cedric had seen the fear in his Father’s eyes even as he was proclaiming confidently that Cedric would be home by May. 

Another two weeks passed him by in the same slow rhythm of hospital day. He wasn’t allowed any further visits or letters and the only section of the Prophet that ever made it onto the ward was the Sport section. Apart from two visits by Junia to prepare him for what the trial he had no other visitors. He had begun to feel at home in this strange half world that he now inhabited and thoughts of Hogwarts and the world outside St Mungo’s seemed fuzzy and half formed. 

*  
“You are looking well, Cedric.”

They were sat in Healer Culpepper's study at the far end of Barnaby Ward where Cedric had spent the better part of the last month regaining his sense of self. Cedric's ever-present shadow, the Auror meant to prevent his escape, still waited outside the door. It was funny what you could get used to.

"I thought you should know. I will be speaking at your trial tomorrow."

Cedric gripped his cup of tea, chamomile for its calming properties, tightly in both hands.

"For which side?"

"Both and neither," the old man leaned back and folded his hands over his ample stomach. "I am to provide my opinion of you from a Healer's perspective. I have a prepared statement here if you would like to see it."

Cedric looked at him warily. "Are you allowed to do that? To show me I mean?"

"Of course, of course." Culpepper handed him the neatly rolled parchment. "I believe I have spoken fairly."

Cedric let his eyes wander over the statement, going back to re-read when his mind periodically drifted off into distraction. It was hard to read about himself in such plain, unvarnished terms. It reminded him unpleasantly of the laughter and snide voices that had plagued him these past four months. Except that these words weren't so much cruel as they were disinterested. So very unlike the very human man who had sat by his bedside a month ago and given him his power over his life back again. 

".... a chronic and, if untreated, likely fatal case of Melancholia brought about by extreme deprivation of material and emotional comforts."

Cedric's mouth twisted in a bitter smile. That was one way to put it. He still had days where getting out of bed seemed impossible but slowly, very slowly, it was getting a little easier to live in his own head again.

"...demonstrates care and empathy for others also in our charge here at Barnaby’s."

Reading the reports of Quidditch games to old Samuel didn't strike Cedric as a particularly special thing to do. The old man was bored and lonely just like Cedric was and it had been good to spend time with someone who didn't know who he was or what he had done. Helping other people had always been something he'd enjoyed before his year from hell and it was good to be the one giving help instead of needing it.

"...conclude that he has shown remorse and understanding for the impact of his choices and, in my assessment, does not pose a significant or ongoing threat to the community, magical or otherwise, in which he will come to reside."

"Do you really think all those things about me?" He asked nervously, rolling the parchment back up and handing it back.

"I like to think that I speak as I find." Culpepper gave him a long, penetrating look. "Now, how are Mr Potter and Ms Chang treating you today?"

"Better," Cedric said honestly. They still spoke up occasionally, usually when something seeming innocuous reminded him of what he had done and why he was here but it was getting easier and easier to simply disregard them. He hadn't heard Sebastian since learning about the support his friend was giving to his parents. "It feels like the more I do the less they've got to say about it."

Culpepper nodded along to Cedric's words. "It is as we have said before, they are not anything at all besides you and your beliefs about you. As you recollect yourself, they will naturally become less - vocal."

Cedric set his empty cup down and worried at the end of an already bitten fingernail. He was more afraid than he wanted to admit about leaving the calm sanctuary of the hospital and being thrust into those pits that they called courtrooms, chained into a chair with Dementors swirling about him. He gave an involuntarily shiver.

Culpepper had the rare gift of knowing how to sit with silence. That was one of the reasons that Cedric liked him as much as he did and had grown to trust him. Better still, he also knew how to break it.

“I can prescribe a sleeping draught for you tonight if you would like?”

Cedric looked up in surprise. Culpepper and the other Healers used such potions as sparingly as they could and Cedric had suffered many sleepless and tormented nights before his brain had learned how to start to rest again. He nodded and cleared his throat. This might be his last chance to talk to Culpepper like this.

“Thank you.” He said quietly. It was a stupidly inadequate way to try and convey the gratitude he wanted to, not only for the treatment he had received but the kindness that had come with it. “If…I don’t…” he cut off that thought before it could get its claws into him, “I owe you my life.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric's trial is over but he still has to deal with the aftermath of his choices. The rest of the Wizarding world are struggling to cope with the growing faultlines between factions.

The team of Aurors arrived very early to escort him to his hearing. They discussed the plan amongst themselves as if he were nothing but a thing, an inconvenient object they were tethered to. They were to Apparate from St Mungo’s to just outside the entrance to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After that he would be placed in a holding cell until his time came.

The Ward staff paused in their work to watch as he was again restrained in heavy chains and marched out of the door, a forcible reminder to anyone that saw him that he was a dangerous criminal. This early in the morning there weren’t that many people around and Cedric was grateful to see that the Aurors were deliberately avoiding the main front of the hospital.

He paused as they finally emerged into the warm spring day to take in a lungful of clean fresh air.

“Move it,” came the sharp voice of one of the Aurors and a sharp yank on the chains to keep him hurrying along.

The employee entrance to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was apparently down the back of a dark alley, the sharp acrid stench or urine reminding him unpleasantly of Azkaban. They didn’t linger long there though and soon he was propelled inside the many corridors of the Ministry of Magic. The place was still almost deserted but he could feel the eyes of people on him as he was hurried past.

A trail of whispers followed after Cedric and the group escorting him, he wanted to stop and listen to what they said but before he could even contemplate that he was seized firmly by the upper arms and near enough dragged along the final stretch of corridor and into an old generously proportioned lift.

“It’s a security risk bringing him in this way,” one sharp eyes Auror commented over Cedric’s head as the lift began to descend. “Too much publicity. Should have taken him back to Azkaban and then here the usual way.

“Old Bones reckons not.” Cedric hadn’t recognised the woman until she spoke, her hair was a perfectly ordinary mousy-brown this time. She shot a suspicious look at Cedric. “Doesn’t think it’s safe. And she knows what she’s doing.”

Cedric couldn’t hold back a snort of derision. Well of course it wasn’t safe it had nearly killed him. But why would they care about that now and not before. The next thing he knew his head was ringing from a blow to the side of his face that he’d never seen coming. 

“Think it’s funny, do you?” The man hissed, seizing Cedric by the front of his robes shoving him violently backwards so that he stumbled and fell to the floor, the air jarred out of him. “I lost my wife because of vermin like you.”

“Hayes!” The woman and another of the Aurors had their wands up and trained on the man who had attacked him. “Pull your head in.”

Cedric was hauled back up to his feet. His face was stinging and there was a hot trickle of blood making its way down the side of his temple. The lift drew to a halt and several pairs of curious eyes looked at the tangle of people in the lift as the door opened. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The woman had black hair now, to match her mood Cedric supposed. “Get out,” she spat at Hayes, who was looking distinctly sheepish. “Scrimgeour is going to hear about this.” She was looking at Cedric without seeing him, the way that all the Aurors did, but with a wave of her wand his head felt a little better. Hayes turned left where they turned right and Cedric was pushed into a small whitewashed, windowless cell, his chains fastened to a ring in the bench and finally left alone.

*  
There were no Dementors. 

The room was intimidating that was certain and Cedric’s legs felt like rubber as he was marched towards the chair in the centre of the dais where the chains leapt around his wrists and ankles.  
Where were the Dementors?

“Mr Diggory,” A tall witch who looked to be in her early 50s, grey streaks running through her brown hair, addressed him from the benches above him. “I am Amelia Bones, head of this department and presiding Judge at your trial today. Have you had the opportunity to consult with your legal counsel?”

Cedric nodded, his throat suddenly feeling like it wanted to close up. He couldn’t connect this stern, terrifying woman with her sunny and easy-going niece that Cedric had shared a common room with these past five years. “Y-yes your honour.”

“You are charged,” she glanced down and perched a pair of glasses on her nose, “with breach of the International Statute of Secrecy, Malicious use of magic against Muggles and the Murder of the Muggle Jane Stuart. How do you answer these charges?”

“I used a few jinxes and hexes,” He said quietly, his voice echoed up magically enhanced for the people who were seated in the rows above. “And a shield charm.”

“I have reviewed the facts of the case, Mr Diggory, and do not need to be reminded of them. I asked you how you answer the charges.”

He wanted to hide away, never think about that night again. But Junia Fawley had been very clear. Presentation mattered. He set shoulders and looked up at her steadily. “Not guilty.” 

It took the threat of a silencing charm for the hubbub to die down again. Madame Bones settled the stack of parchment on the bench before her. “Thank you, Mr Diggory. I would now like to invite the Case for the Prosecution to put forth their arguments.”

Cedric felt like a mouse beneath the claws of a particularly vicious owl as the day pressed on. His legs were horribly cramped from being trapped in one position and he was both hungry and thirsty. He didn’t know any of the people who stood so confidently before the assembled Wizengamot and pulled apart his character and history with all the delicacy of a hammer against glass.

The country’s leading expert on Muggle relations was the one who surprised him the most, pulling the crumpled and faded lime green leaflet that Cedric had taken from Emmett Farnham last August out of his briefcase and waving it around like it was a Cedric’s signed confession of hatred for all Mugglekind. 

“This is not an innocent boy, ladies and gentleman” he said gravely, giving Cedric a very unpleasant look indeed, “but an adult Wizard who has a clear pattern of discrimination and hatred towards those of us he believes to be unworthy of living in society. He may claim his actions were accidental but I ask you how does one accidentally break into a house; how does one accidentally knock a woman backwards with enough force to break her neck? How does one accidentally get a document like this and read it and discuss it with his friends?”

It would have been a relief if that was the worst of it but by the time the session was suspended for lunch Cedric was in a state of agitated despair.

“None of that is true.” He said forcefully, pushing away the offered sandwich that Junia and her assistant bought for him. “They shouldn’t be allowed to lie like that! They make it sound like given half a chance I’d be murdering Muggles before lunch every Sunday.”

“It’ll be our turn next.” Junia drew her lips together in a thin, determined line.

“Do I get to say anything?” Cedric asked anxiously. It was nerve wracking to put his whole future in the hands of other people.

“Not unless we have no other choice.” She folded her arms and regarding him shrewdly. “You haven’t been privy to any of the uproar that this is causing in the Magical Community. Your case is seen as defining the battle-lines for the factions vying for control of the Ministry. Amelia Bones and her ilk want to make an example out of you. To them the life of one boy is worth destroying if it lets them keep power.”

“And you want to make me a figurehead for the other side? For our side I mean?”

“Exactly,” she gave him the same tight smile that Sebastian used when he was feeling particularly pleased with himself. “It’s always best for figureheads to remains a little idealised in order to have the desired effect.”

He forced down a few bites of the sandwich which turned out to be ham and too dry. If this went badly it might be the last good meal he had for a very long time. This time when he was escorted back out into the courtroom, he felt a little steadier on his feet.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Amelia Bones entered and everyone except Cedric stood respectfully. “Madame Fawley, you may present your arguments.”

“Thank you, your honour.” Junia paced out into the centre of the room to stand next to Cedric he could hear her intake of steadying breath and watched her fingers uncurl as she prepared herself. 

“Cedric Diggory is a young man who in his life so far has demonstrated many fine qualities that have made him an outstanding student, gifted athlete and valued member of his community. Over the coming hours I will prove beyond doubt that he is nothing more than the victim of a vicious mob mentality that has deprived him of his freedom, of his health and of his rights as a member of Magical Society.”

It was a good beginning and Cedric again wondered when his luck had turned enough to allow him a person like this as his defence. If his reputation had been torn apart that morning then the afternoon was the rebuilding of it although he wasn’t sure he still recognised the person being described to the Witches and Wizards assembled in the courtroom.

Professor Sprout didn’t look at him as she gave her testimony. He looked at her though and hoped that she could feel his eyes burning in the back of her neck. He didn’t care that she wept when she told the court how he had come to her and asked for help. If she had listened then he could have been spared many months of pain and suffering.

Healer Culpepper’s account was no surprise as he had read it the previous day. Still, he wished his parents could have been spared the detail of just how bleak things had been for him. 

“Bet you wish you’d tied that noose just a little tighter.” Potter’s voice whispered treacherously in his ear and he shook his head distractedly. “Would have done us all a favour.”

After that Cedric tried to focus on details, the colour of people’s robes and the faint trailing perfume that Junia wore as she moved about the chamber. Grounding techniques, Culpepper had called them, and they worked well because Potter didn’t provide any further snide observations for the rest of the afternoon.

The genteel sound of the brass bell signalled the end of the day’s proceedings. Cedric would be held overnight at the Department’s cells and sentencing would take place tomorrow. Junia came to see him before she left to go home for the night and seemed to think it had gone well. 

“They can’t get you on the Statute, that Muggle-lover Shafiq can rail all he likes, you don’t meet the definition under precedent.” She whirled and paced back the length of the small room, “and as for Murder well they’ve got about as much chance of riding a Centaur down Piccadilly Circus, Pomona Sprout might not be good for much but you can thank her for that much at least.”

“What about the other one,” Cedric was massaging the life back into his numbed feet, “even I know I cursed a Muggle when I shouldn’t have.”

“Well, yes.” Junia frowned, “I’m a lawyer Cedric, not a miracle worker. Still, at worst they’d give you another three months in Azkaban and with the recent breakout I don’t see that as likely. At best they’ll assign forfeiture of assets either now if you can pay or to be paid over time. Realistically it will probably be a small forfeiture and a requirement to report to the Auspicers.”

“What?” Cedric spoke so loudly that one of the Magical Law Enforcement officers appeared at the doorway and frowned at them. Cedric fought down a surge of agitated excitement and spoke again a little more calmly. “Are you telling me there’s a good chance I’ll walk out of here tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she smiled infectiously, “I really do think there is.”

He was too nervous to eat the thin porridge delivered by a skinny Ministry Witch the following morning; hope did battle with anxiety in the pit of his stomach and he was more than a little concerned that he would throw up if he tried to eat it. Junia had seemed confident but she wasn't the one who had spent the last four months locked up and under guard. She gave him the smallest of encouraging smiles as she came back to find his breakfast untouched.

"Home-cooked meal tonight I hope," she winked and hurried away.

Hayes wasn't amongst the Aurors who escorted him to the holding cell adjacent to the court chambers this time. None of them spoke to him but he thought he could detect a hint of irritation in their handling as he was dumped like a potato sack onto the bench and chained in place; maybe they thought that he was about to escape their clutches. He leaned his head back against the cool stone and sighed. It was strange to be this close to freedom and even stranger to actually believe he deserved it. He had believed for a very long time that he was what the Department of Magical Law Enforcement now claimed he was, a murderer who deserved to be locked away and punished. In Azkaban and later in St Mungo’s he had never really questioned whether it was right that he was there. Now a burning resentment was flickering to life in his chest.

It had been an accident, a few seconds of madness resulting in a terrible error of judgement. If he could go back again, he wouldn't do it.

That hadn't mattered though. Not to people who cared so much about looking right that they didn't care if they weren't actually right. Professor Sprout, so concerned with the reputation of Hufflepuff House that she had ignored him when he needed her most, Dumbledore who cared so much for Harry Potter but nothing for Cedric and the taunts he had endured; his so-called friends who hadn't even tried to reach out to him when he had needed them'; that Muggle for killing Fidget. Worst of all was the Ministry, they would have let him die in Azkaban rather than admit that anyone apart from him had ever made a mistake.

"Diggory," the curt sound of the Auror's voice brought him back to himself. "It's time."

He was chained in the chair again and looked up into the cavernous ceiling of the courtroom. All around him he could hear a buzz of conversation which slowly grew quiet as Amelia Bones and the rest of the Wizengamot filed in and took their places. Madame Bones looked down at him from the bench, stern and impassive. "Good morning, Mr Diggory."

Cedric swallowed hard. "Good morning, your Honour."

"I invite you now to address the court before we pass sentence. Is there anything you wish to state for the record?"

He and Junia had discussed this at some length. She felt it very important that whatever the outcome he send the consistent message of a young man who acknowledged his errors and was hopeful of the opportunity to do better if given the chance.

"I made a mistake." His voice threatened to break and so he cleared his throat and began again. "I made a mistake and it killed someone. I regret that very much and if I would undo the harm, I have done I would do it in a heartbeat. The family of Jane Stuart have lost a daughter, as sister and a much-loved wife. What is more my family and those I love have suffered for my choices when they played no role in the crimes I committed. As Your Honour and the court have heard I accept responsibility for what I have done. I ask the court now for compassion towards those I have harmed and for mercy towards me."

He took a deep breath and stopped speaking, his heart thundering in his ears. There was a moment of absolute silence and then a cacophony of noise erupted in the courtroom. There were cheers and hollers that far outdid the jeers. Rumbling to life a many voiced chorus of Witches and Wizards began to chant 'FREE CEDRIC DIGGORY, FREE CEDRIC DIGGORY'.

Cedric ducked his head and looked down to avoid anyone seeing the smile that was threatening to burst onto his lips.

It was a disrupted and noisy five minutes before order was restored back to the courtroom. The Court Officials had actually escorted a few people out of the chambers and it had taken the threat of arrest for any further disruption before calm finally descended back on the room. Amelia Bones looked completely unruffled by the chaos that had unfolded and fixed him with another penetrating look. "Thank you, Mr Diggory. I will now list the charges and after each the decision which this court has reached. When I have finished reading the verdict, I will pass sentence. Do you understand, Mr Diggory?"

Cedric felt like his tongue was made of rubber as he forced the words out. "Yes, Your Honour."

"On the charge of Breaching the International Statute of Secrecy we find you Not Guilty." She looked up and gave a hard stare towards the viewing benches as there was another burst of whispering. "On the charge of Malicious Use of Magic against a Muggle we find you Guilty." That much was expected but he still felt like he'd taken a bludger to the stomach. The next one would be it. Amelia Bones continued calmly on as if she was reading a weather report. "And on the charge of Murder of the Muggle Jane Stuart, we find you Not Guilty."

Some long invisible weight flew off his shoulders and he took a long breath.

"Mr Diggory, you have been cleared of Breach of the Statute and of Murder. However, your use of Magic was reckless in the extreme and led indirectly to the death of another person. I am satisfied by the accounts given by your Teachers and Healers that you are truly remorseful for what you have done. Nonetheless your actions must meet with consequences. The Law here allows me a wide scope in determining what those consequences should be. You have spent a full four months in the charge of the Department of Magical Law and three of those months in Azkaban. This is seen by some here today as sufficient punishment however I disagree."

Not Azkaban. Please not Azkaban. Somewhere over Cedric's shoulder, Potter gave a low unpleasant chuckle.

"It seems that you have been exposed to some dangerous influences which have led you away from the path your parents raised you to follow. I would like to give you the best opportunity to undo the damage those influences have wrought. I am ordering you to meet weekly with an Auspicer for the next eight months They will have considerable latitude to dictate to your where you must go and what you must do. Failure to abide by the directions given to you by your Auspicer will mean that you will be taken to Azkaban and serve the remainder of your eight months there."

She waved her wand with a flourish and the chains sprang free. Cedric, however, remained sitting in stunned disbelief. Just like that he was able to go home.

The noise when he stepped out into the Public foyer of the department was overwhelming. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once and pushing to get to him. The Aurors that for so long had haunted his every step were gone and the crowd pressed in closer.

"Cedric, Cedric Diggory - what do you say to the people who think you should be in Azkaban right now?"

"Mr Diggory," A photograph for the Prophet.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts, Diggory? How can we assure our readers you aren't a threat to their children?"

A hand closed around his wrist and he went to yank it away only to realise that it was Emmett Farnham. "This way," the other man said quickly and pulled Cedric down a side-passage that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. "Goodness knows what they're thinking putting you out there like that before you've even seen your own family. They're waiting just down here. Now let's see..." Emmett pulled out his wand and tapped smartly at the plain face of a small unobtrusive wooden door which swung open to reveal his Mum and Dad standing next to an elated looking Junia Fawley.

"My boy," His Dad flung himself across the room and enveloped Cedric in an all-encompassing hug. "My son, oh...." His Mum wasn't far behind and Cedric felt himself relax into the embrace of his parents, feeling safe for the first time since that awful day in the village when all this had begun. He gave them both the big squeezing hugs he'd wanted to for so long and, still standing as close to them as he could manage, turned to Junia Fawley.

"I don't know how to thank you for any of this," he began only to be waved away.

"I would do the same for anyone," She insisted. "And my Son thinks very highly of you."

"What happened to you wasn't right, Cedric." Farnham spoke up. "Those Muggleborns have forgotten the reason they're even in power is to SERVE us. They should have helped you not sent you up like a slaughter to placate all those who gave forgotten the responsibilities that our gifts burden us with,"

Cedric looked around automatically to try and sooth any trouble between his Mum and Farnham but to his surprise she was nodding along. His Dad simply looked stony faced at the mention of the Ministry.

"I'm sure you'd like to go home at once," Junia sighed, "but we have one more short trip to the Offices of the Auspicers to retrieve your wand."

Junia opened the door and peered into the corridor before giving a satisfied nod. "I think I can get us there without too many prying eyes. Follow me."

Farnham excused himself before they left and promised Cedric an Owl the following day. Then the three Diggorys and Junia slipped quietly out of the door. The Office of the Auspicers was one level up from the main Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It had a tired, worn feeling to it but Cedric still felt nervous as they went through the main doors. A Middle-Aged Witch with sternly tailored navy robes gave him a searching look as he gave his name. "You're the one in the Prophet, ain't ya."

"I don't know." Cedric said tiredly, "they don't let you read the Prophet in Azkaban."

The woman sniffed and disappeared into the offices behind the Reception desk. Moments later she emerged again followed by a short, stocky Wizard with close cropped greying hair who gave him the same suspicious look that she had.

'Diggory." It was a statement not a question. "Come with me. No family," he added as both his parents made a move to follow. Cedric was shown through into a small room containing a suspiciously tidy desk and two chairs. The Wizard dropped into one and gestured for Cedric to sit in the other.

"My name is Arnold Merrick," he said in the same brusque and forthright tone. "I am to be your Auspicer. That means that I am responsible to the Ministry for ensuring you do not cause anyone else any harm. Do as you are told and we will get along swimmingly. Give me any funny business and I'll be letting my bosses know to take you back where you came from, do we understand one another."

"Yes, Sir." Cedric said, making a distinct effort to sound polite and respectful.

"Good." Merrick said bluntly and pulled open a draw in his desk, placing Cedric's wand on the desk in front of him. "I suppose you'll be wanting this back then?" Cedric wondered if Merrick meant for him to try and take the wand but painful experience had taught him to wait when it came to Wizards in authority. He dug his nails into his palm to keep from moving and waited patiently to be given permission. "You can use magic when necessary and needed within your own home." Merrick continued as if he hadn't noticed Cedric's internal debate. "That means no curses, no jinxes and no Apparating from Lands’ End to John o' Groats just because you feel like it. Should you feel the need to travel for any reason and do not intend to return to your resident address by nightfall you would do well to let me know where you are going and who you will be seeing. Your Owl post will redirect via my office and so I would thank you to be polite in your letters to any young ladies you wish to pursue. I will see you here in this office at 11 O'clock each Monday where I will be ensuring that you are abiding by the directions you have been given. Any questions?"

"Yes Sir, what about School? Can I use magic to practice for the exams?"

Merrick's eyebrows rose at that. "N.E.W.T year isn't it?" At Cedric's nod he gave a snort and shrugged. "Not up to me, Diggory. Dumbledore probably would have done but he’s out. I will write to the Headmistress and see what she has to say on the matter. For now, it's home and keep your pretty nose clean. Take this," he pushed Cedric's wand across the table. "and get out. I'll see you one week from today."

Cedric felt a rush of elation as his fingers closed around the warm familiar feel of his wand. "Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

His parents and Junia were waiting where he had left them. He shoved his wand hastily back in his pocket before the urge to conjure up bouquets of flowers for his Mum and Junia. A short while later they were standing on the streets of Muggle London while his Mum said goodbye to Junia. 

"You must bring Aberlard and Sebastian, Cedric would love to see Sebastian, wouldn't you dear." Cedric was looking around distractedly at the strange sight of people going about their business with no guards, dementors or threat of death hanging over them. The thought of seeing Sebastian brought a strange lightness to his centre. "Yes..."

"Would you like to come side-along?" His Dad asked, clapping a hand around Cedric's shoulders. "Like old times, hey?"

There was a crack, a squeezing pressure and then the smell of honeysuckle and lavender of the Farm in summertime. He was home. He walked in the door and aside from the decorations it was as if no time had passed at all. But it had and he knew that he was a very different person from the boy who had been dragged off to Azkaban what seemed like forever ago.

*

The sense of relief and contentment didn't last much beyond the second morning he awoke in his own bed. Home was much better than St Mungo’s or Azkaban but when you couldn't leave a place it was still easy to feel trapped. Cedric coped with it as best he could by spending nearly every waking hour he had on his broom practicing dives and drills and, on one particularly hot day, swimming in the river at the bottom of the fields. 

He liked the feeling of being out in the open after so long confined inside. His school trunk still sat in his bedroom, its contents in disarray after the Aurors had searched it for incriminating evidence, and he hadn't found the energy to want to open his school books again; not before he knew if there was any point at all to doing it. His Dad was home a lot more now as well seeing as the shop had suffered thanks to Cedric's notoriety.

He spent the afternoon before the scheduled dinner with the Fawleys in a state of agitated anticipation. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Sebastian since before Christmas and was more than a little concerned that he’d made more of what he hoped they had than there really was. It’s very good of you to make such an effort for the Fawleys,” his Mum commented with a bright smile when she caught him trying to tame the wild mane of his hair. “But how about you let me see to that.”

He had just sat down on his bed to gather himself when there was a knock at the door.

“I’m decent.” He called out, and when there was no immediate response. “Mum?”

“I’m afraid I’d have to argue that point,” Sebastian’s smile was infectious. “And I hope I’m welcome even if I’m not your Mother.”

Cedric gaped at him for what felt like an excruciating five seconds before getting it together enough to speak. “What are you doing here? Isn’t it the middle of term?”

“Dad wrote to Professor Umbridge.” Sebastian looked faintly disgusted at the mention of her name. “She couldn’t have been more helpful. I’ve got to go back by Floo tomorrow.”

Cedric didn’t waste any more time, standing up and wrapping Sebastian in his arms. For a few glorious moments it was as if the whole nightmare of the past few months hadn’t happened at all and he felt absolutely at peace.

“Look at you,” Sebastian murmured, pushing back Cedric’s hair from where it had fallen forward around his jawline. “What did they do to you in that awful place?”

Cedric tried to match the warmth of Sebastian’s smile. “Nothing that isn’t better for seeing you.”

Sebastian pulled back and studied Cedric critically. “Want to talk about it?”

Cedric shrugged and, when words to try and explain himself failed to appear, simply shook his head. Sebastian gave a short nod and pushed the door closed behind him, sitting down on Cedric’s bed as if he belonged there. Cedric sat down beside him and leaned his body up close against the other man, feeling the warmth of him against his skin.

“Thought about you a lot.” He said quietly after a few more minutes. “Missed you.”

“Me too.”

Cedric wasn’t sure he could say it until he finally did get the words out. “I’m sorry.”  
Sebastian, who always seemed to have his words ready, was silent for another long moment. “I think you’ve paid enough of a price, Diggory, without me needing a pound of flesh too. I’m just glad to have you back.”

It wouldn’t be that simple though and Cedric knew that Sebastian knew it too. There were expectations of sole sons that couldn’t be easily overlooked and that was without the storm swirling around Cedric and the fractures in the world around them that already threatened to break open. Still, for now this was enough.

The Dinner went very well, far better than Cedric could have ever imagined given Aberlard Fawley's fearsome reputation. Cedric found he didn't want to talk all that much about politics and rumours of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return but he was happy to listen and to try to catch up on what he had missed during his absence from life. The themes were unchanged, Muggleborns pushing for better representation, arguments over how to stamp out extremism - or anyone who dared to challenge the ministry line, and how people seemed to actually be scared to do anything and more content to simply wait for other people to make the decisions for them.

"We've had quite a few resignations," Mr Fawley was nodding along as Cedric's Dad held forth about the slowdown in the economy. "People upping and leaving the country for blasted's sake, of course those sort always will when the chips are down. They say they want to be Wizards but when it actually comes down to it, they don't want to put in the hard work of really belonging."

"And Fudge is absolutely incompetent," his Mum sniffed, "he wouldn't do a thing to help you dear," she patted Cedric on the arm and heaped more roast potatoes onto his plate. "Was worried about how it might look."

"Someone should do something then," he said quietly, "all this talking doesn't help our people does it?"

"You mustn't say things like that, Ced," his Dad looked suddenly anxious. "If the Ministry should hear, if they were to get the wrong idea then.."

"What?" Cedric sighed and pushed away his plate, he'd already had too much to eat. "They can't stop me THINKING a thought surely, and if I want to think that they are incompetent and the country needs leadership which will make the hard choices over the easy ones then how can they justify locking me away over that?"

"They can't," Sebastian gave a sardonic sniff, "but I wouldn't put it past them to try. You can see if everywhere, bias against the old Families."

"And that is why we need to stick together," Mr Fawley tapped his knife sharply with each word for emphasis, giving Cedric a look of mingled pride and indignation. "And support this fine young man in all his future endeavours."

"Well said, Aberlard," Junia raised her glass, "to Cedric and to preserving our heritage."

Toast done the conversation drifted back to more mundane details of Quidditch and finally the latest advancements in Potions and Alchemy. With both sets of parents distracted Cedric took the opportunity to ask about Hogwarts.

"Things haven't changed all that much,” Sebastian looked thoughtful as he spoke, “the Professors seem pretty keen to pretend everything is the same as it ever was but I haven't seen a few of the Muggleborns since the breakout from Azkaban. Your old friend Alfred is gone for one thing."

Cedric felt a strange twist in his stomach at this new knowledge. He hadn't even thought about writing to Alfred or Humphrey yet but it felt very odd to know that it might already be too late. Alfred had long held ambitions to become an Auror, no matter what Sebastian said it must have been very difficult indeed for him to have dropped out before his exams.

"I think the only ones carrying on as normal are the Slytherins, of course they would do seeing as they don't have any Mudbloods or Ministry lovers in their ranks."

Cedric frowned at the slur and sighed. "Muggleborns are people too. Alfred's a good person." Cedric said reflexively, "it's not his fault his parents weren't wizards."

"Of course not, no one can help where they come from." Sebastian waved away his objections as if they were insubstantial. "But they can help what they do about it and you know better than most what happens when we let a group of outsiders who don't know our ways get control of our laws."

Cedric couldn't argue with that logic and he knew that after the last War a lot of old families had lost sons, daughters and loved ones to Azkaban sometimes with almost no trial to speak of. No one was interested in talking about reconciliation or respect when it came to Wizards whose only crime was being from an old Family and trying to guide society for the good. That hadn't been their only crime though, murmured an unpleasant little voice somewhere deep in his conscience. But what could you do when you were faced with your own annihilation? Anyone would fight that.

The night ended as pleasantly as it had begun. Junia Fawley gave him a squeezing hug and promised to be in touch very soon. Mr Fawley shook his hand again and gave him a respectful bow as if he was some sort of hero for getting himself arrested and locked up. Sebastian promised to write from Hogwarts with some work for him to do after giving him a sound lecture about the importance of study for his future chances. Cedric smiled at that, such a Ravenclaw thing to do. He hadn't been tired until he'd watched them leave and Apparate with a sharp crack but then it hit him like a Bludger to the stomach. His Mum saw him yawning and told him, not unkindly, to go to bed which for once he did without arguing about it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters. When someone's vigilante attack lands him back in hospital Cedric is offered a chance at finally moving forward. Unfortunately for him he gets help from all the wrong people.

His weekly visits to the Auspicers quickly became a difficult combination of nerve wracking and insanely repetitive. 

“You’ve had a lot of letters,” Merrick tossed a stack onto the desk between them, “can’t say as I approve of the content and I certainly didn’t appreciate the one full of acid but I’ve checked them all and they’re safe.”

There were a lot of letters. At least fifty from Cedric’s perfunctory glance. 

“I didn’t ask anyone to write to me, Sir.”

“Didn’t say you had.” Merrick grunted. “There’s one or two who’ll be getting a visit from my friends upstairs for what they tried to send you, son. You’d best be careful. Now,” he fixed Cedric with his customary intense gaze. “How has your week been?”

It was all Cedric could do not to roll his eyes. It had been like this for the last five visits. Cedric had given up on getting an answer back about his Hogwarts work and Merrick had shot down his request to attend a Quidditch game in the name of Public Order, whatever that was supposed to mean. The most adventure he had had since returning home was being allowed to work in the back part of his Dad’s potion shop where no one would see him. 

Seven more months though and he could do whatever he wanted.

“Quiet…” Cedric shrugged. “I don’t really see anyone and well, you get all my letters.”

“Now,” Merrick said flatly, pulling out a thin letter from his own desk draw. “I have an answer from the Head Mistress.”

For a minute Cedric was thrown and then remembered that Albus Dumbledore had finally been sacked maybe with him gone there’d finally be some decent leadership. He straightened up feeling a surge of hope.  
Merrick looked at him tiredly. “There’s no easy way to say it, son. She’s refused to have you back.”

“But…what? Not even for the exams?”

Merrick shrugged as if the news of Cedric’s future being destroyed was inconsequential. “The board were split and she is the final vote.”

“If I don’t have any N.E.W.Ts then how am I supposed to get a job?” He said, trying to keep the desperate tone out of his voice. “What am I supposed to do?”

“There may be some options for qualifications via the Ministry. Speaking of your studies I see Emmett Farnham has sent you another book.” Another half-opened package, a parcel really, thudded heavily onto the table. “Read me that title, would you Diggory?”

Cedric, who had never seen this book before in his life, leaned forward. “The Replacement.”

“And then rest.” Merrick’s tone was sharper now.

“How the Muggleborns are taking over.” Cedric’s stomach dropped. “I don’t ask him to send me these things.”

“And yet they keep appearing. You were this,” Merrick said flatly, his fingers a hairsbreadth apart, “close to going back to Azkaban boy. Are you trying to tempt fate here?”

“I’m not tempting anything.” Cedric said hotly, “I told you I didn’t ask him to send me those books. If you think it’s such an awful thing then why don’t you go after the authors?”

Merrick didn’t reply and instead was writing on a memo note that folded itself up and flapped out of the door. “I’m putting you on a Muggle Relations course. The people at the Liaison Office run them fairly regularly. I will send you an Owl when they give me a date.”

“I did Muggle Studies at O.W.L level,” Cedric said shortly. “I know all about Muggles.”

Merrick didn’t even blink. “Well you’ll be a great help to the other attendees, then won’t you? And you’ll get some study in as well. Complete that and we’ll see about the Quidditch finals.”

Cedric stomped out of the Auspicers Office in a foul mood. He didn’t need a Muggle Relations course and he definitely didn’t need to be treated like a recalcitrant toddler who would only behave if presented with low bribes. He wanted to go home, he could throw a couple of bludgers at that old tree stump near the copse and calm himself down. He wasn’t paying attention as he made his way down the narrow street towards his usual Apparition spot until a sudden exclamation of surprise from behind him and then a shout made him turn.

“Murderer!”

He looked up just in time for the jinx to hit him square in the chest. He crashed to the ground, completely unable to move. His attacker had come from behind and dealt him a heavy kick in the kidneys.  
“How does it feel to be the powerless one, Diggory?”

Another, kick this time to his head, had him seeing stars. He tried to cry out but couldn’t even manage a moan. His attacker at last came into view, she was a wiry looking Witch with short black hair and an angry scowl marring her features. 

“If the Ministry won’t give you what you deserve then I will.” She spat in his face and jabbed her wand angrily forward. “Let’s see how many bones I can break before someone stops me.”

Her wand made a complicating twisting motion and there were a series of a sickening snaps as one by one the fingers of his right hand were wrenched backwards in an entirely unnatural direction. The stars swam in front of his vision again but he couldn’t make a sound.

She was looking right at him, eerily composed. He was dimly aware of footsteps and shouts in the distance. The wand moved again and even though he was ready for it he still couldn’t do a thing to stop her. This time his whole wrist twisted and he felt the bones crunch and grind. She planted her foot on his forearm and twirled her wand again; and in a wave of searing agony he actually felt the bones in his forearm scrape against the stones of the pavement. 

Cedric panted desperately, fighting a losing battle to stay conscious against the agony in his right arm. Was she going to pulverise his entire body before the goddamn Aurors finally came to stop her?  
He could hear calm unhurried footsteps sounding less than twenty feet away. 

“That’s for my sister, you fascist piece of shit.” 

The Witch stepped calmly over him and walked away in the opposite direction.

*  
“Aren’t you going to at least take a statement?” Emmett Farnham’s voice rose angrily from outside Cedric’s hospital bed. “That was an illegal curse.”

“Recognised it did you? That’s interesting that you’d know that.”

That had to be one of the Aurors who had brought him to St Mungo’s. Cedric felt dazed and sleepy. They’d had to put him out while they’d undone the damage to his cursed bones and if he was lucky he’d be left without even a scar for his pains but that wasn’t the point.

“He was attacked in the street. I demand that you seek justice.”

“No witnesses.” The same dull, bored tone. 

“Cedric is a witness.” Emmett sounded positively furious now. “Seeing as she stood right over him while she did it.”

“Sir, if you don’t calm down, I will have to ask you to leave.”

The next thing Emmett burst past the flimsy curtains surrounding Cedric’s bed, his thin face was bright red with fury. The anger seemed to melt away as he regarded Cedric and he sat down bonelessly in the chair next to the bed. “I’m sorry. I tried.”

“It’s okay.” Cedric muttered. “You won’t get any help for me from them. They all think I should be in Azkaban.”

“There are changes coming.” Emmett said quietly, in a voice too low to carry beyond the small space between them. “I have someone I want you to meet. Someone I think could help you.”

“I can’t.” Cedric said tiredly, “I’ve already been threatened with Azkaban because of a book you sent me.”

“I’ll be waiting for you after your next appointment with the Auspicer.” Farnham continued, as if he hadn’t heard Cedric’s objection. “I think you will be very interested in what they have to say.”

Cedric shrugged, too tired and sore to argue anymore. His parents had already owled ahead to say they would be coming to bring him home given that his wand arm wasn’t up to much at the moment. Right then he would probably have agreed to sit down for tea with Potter himself if Farnham would just let him be. The only thing he wanted was to go home and be done with these hordes of Wizards too corrupt or too afraid to do the right thing.

*

A week later Cedric was a lot more cautious making his way out of the Auspicers and towards Diagon Alley where Emmett had promised to introduce him to this mysterious person who he was so keen for Cedric to meet.

Cedric pulled his cloak tighter around himself, glad of the summer squall as an excuse to raise his hood. He wasn’t sure how successfully he had convinced Merrick of his sudden burning desire to visit Flourish and Blotts and pick up some books on Muggle Studies but he knew he had half an hour at least where no questions would be asked if he was careful.

He slipped inside the shop which was perhaps half full and made his way over to the Muggle section, looking around for any sign of Emmett. He spotted him quickly enough standing next to a short, stocky man with a round face, grey hair and a look of pleasant geniality. 

“Ah,” Emmett smiled in welcome. “Cedric, how is the arm?”

“Much better thank you,” Cedric cast a curious glance at the stranger. “Is this who you wanted me to meet?”

“Yes,” Emmett smiled at his companion who inclined his head politely in greeting. “This is Corban Yaxley.”

“And you must be Cedric Diggory,” Yaxley had a pleasant lilt to his voice that Cedric associated with the Welsh Valleys. “I have been following your case with interest.”

Cedric wasn’t sure if that was a sign of favour or rebuke and so opted for the safest response. “Good to meet you, Sir.” He said politely.

“I have heard,” Yaxley continued, “that you have been wrongfully denied the opportunity to continue your education. Whilst I cannot overturn the decisions of Hogwarts school, I can offer you a chance at a worthwhile career. That is if you do not object to working for the Ministry who so recently have done you such wrong.”

“I…” Cedric began awkwardly, cursing inwardly that he was being offered everything he had hoped for and would have to turn it down. 

Yaxley cut him off with a gesture. “I am aware that there may be some minor barriers to my offer, Mr Diggory. I make it anyway.”

“What would I be doing?”

“Our world is unsafe, Mr Diggory,” for the first time Yaxley’s expression of bland pleasantry hardened. “I have need of people in my Department who I can trust.”

“Cedric is a sound character, Corban, as I have said.” Emmett said placatingly. “He will not let us down.”

“I’ll do it.” Cedric said quickly, not wanting to risk losing this chance to finally start doing some real work. 

“Very good.” Yaxley nodded. “I will make the necessary arrangements. Report to the Ministry tomorrow. I am sure you remember how to reach the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“T-tomorrow?” Cedric stammered. 

“We don’t have time to waste.” Yaxley pulled out a pocket watch and consulted it. “Farnham I must be going. Answer this young man’s questions for me please.”  
Emmett gave a respectful bow. “Of course, Sir.”

Cedric watched Yaxley until he left the shop, feeling hopeful about the chance of his life improving in very short order. He turned back to Emmett giving him a curious look. 

“Corban is very supportive of our cause.” Emmett glanced about to check they were not being overheard. “And he does not over-state his reach. He will deal with Amelia Bones.”

*

“A job?” His Mum’s gave him a squeezing hug and grinned up at him proudly as he gave her the news. “And at the Ministry too. I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, I didn’t really do anything.” Cedric shrugged. “Emmett introduced us and Mr Yaxley thinks that I’m the right fit. I don’t have any experience though,” he added, feeling another flicker of anxiety.

“You’re a bright, motivated young man. They’ll be able to teach you all that. Its wonderful news isn’t it, Amos?”

His Dad was still seated in his favourite armchair, a copy of the Daily Prophet folded on the table beside him. He wasn’t smiling and he certainly didn’t look pleased. “I went to school with Corban.” He said bluntly. “There were some very nasty rumours after the War.”

“Which were unproven.” His Mum said sharply. “I think you could be a little more supportive, especially after everything you’ve seen Cedric go through. If Emmett likes him then he’s got to be alright in the end.”  
His Dad’s frown softened a little. “I think you should be careful, Ced. That’s all I’m saying. I don’t want to see you back – back in trouble.”

They ate their evening meal in an awkward silence. Cedric was full of bubbling resentment at his Dad’s refusal to be pleased about the new opportunity Cedric was taking. Had he ever said he wanted to work in the back of a Potions shop? He had been through absolute hell since last summer. It was about time that he began to get something of his own life back again. If Yaxley could do that for him faster then Cedric would do whatever he was asked.

He dressed in his best clothes the next day reasoning that if Yaxley supported traditional Wizardry he wouldn’t approve of any Muggle attire. At five to eight he kissed his Mother on the cheek and took the Floo to the Ministry of Magic. 

*  
He could feel people’s eyes on him as he hurried through the corridors. He half expected Merrick to appear any moment with an army of Aurors to drag him back to prison but nothing of the sort occurred and he found himself in the neat reception area to the Department of Magical Law enforcement.

“I’m here to see Corban Yaxley,” he said nervously to the stony-faced receptionist who pointed him to a chair without another word. 

It was half an hour before Yaxley himself appeared. After a short and very tense discussion with the receptionist he crooked his finger and beckoned Cedric over. “My apologies,” he said shortly, not looking or sounding at all apologetic. “That woman will be disciplined. Now come with me.”

Cedric followed for some ten minutes down corridor after corridor, feeling completely lost by the time they finally drew to a halt. Yaxley produced a list out of his breast pocket and handed it to Cedric. “Look for these names in those files,” he opened the door to a room that seemed far too vast to fit into the space it appeared to occupy. “Bring them to me for destruction once you have them all.”

It wasn’t exactly the job that Cedric had hoped for when he’d first began dreaming of a Ministry career but nor was it stirring hot cauldrons endlessly in the back of his Dad’s shop. And if he did this well then, he could impress Yaxley and move up to better things. Still he had to stop after the first four hours when his grumbling stomach could no longer be ignored.

He cleared a space on the floor between the piles of files and settled down to eat the sandwiches his Mum had made him that morning.

“Is this the Hall of Records?”

Cedric looked up to see a young, officious looking wizard with flaming red hair was peering at him from behind a tottering stack of parchment. 

“I suppose it must be,” he shrugged, “it’s my first day here.”

“Well I simply must have the files on the Gregorovitch case,” the Wizard sniffed and did a double take. “Hang on, aren’t you Ced -”

“Last time I checked.” Said Cedric, flatly. “And you are?”

“Weasley, Percy Weasley.” Cedric noticed that Percy did not offer his hand to shake. “Are you allowed to be working in here?” 

“Yes.” Cedric said irritably. “And I’m on my lunch.”

“Well,” Percy Weasley looked a little taken aback at finding a notorious criminal in the filing room. “I suppose you deserve some credit for finding gainful employment.”

Cedric weighed up the risks of being sacked against the satisfaction of telling this man where he could stick his wand and opted for the safety of silence. To his increasing irritation Weasley stuck around in the growing awkward silence. Eventually he could stand it no more. “What are you waiting for?”

Percy gave him an impatient look. “For you to finish your lunch.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” Cedric hauled himself to his feet and flicked his wand at the pile of files which swayed ominously.

“Look,” Percy said, looking a little shame-faced. “I might have been a bit hasty earlier, it’s just the last I read in the Prophet…”

“Well you shouldn’t believe everything you read in that rag.” Cedric said shortly, tapping the stack of parchment so it neatly bound itself into a pile for Percy.

“That rag,” Percy said, emphasising the word rag as if it were an unpleasant object he wished to do away with. “Is one of the best sources of information we have to stop Dumbledore and his subversive efforts to undermine confidence in the Ministry.”

“Funny coming from a Weasley,” Cedric looked hard at Percy. “Thought your family was all in for Dumbledore’s nonsense.”

Percy drew himself up importantly. “I have taken a stand against them in this matter.” 

“Well,” Cedric retorted, shoving the papers into Percy’s arms. “I suppose you deserve some credit for distancing yourself from blood traitors and Muggle lovers.”

The insult hit home and Percy left looking both hurt and offended. Cedric ignored the whisper of his conscience and told himself that anyone who was that up himself deserved everything he got.

There were no more interruptions that day until at half past four he made his way slowly back through the maze of corridors, pausing at least once to ask an indifferent Witch or Wizard which way he should go to reach Yaxley’s office. 

Yaxley looked up in surprise as he saw Cedric hovering in the doorway. “What are you still doing here?”

Cedric held up the files. “You wanted these?” 

“Oh, yes thank you Diggory.” Yaxley gestured to a spot on his desk. “Put them there and go home. There will be more to do in the morning.”

*

There was indeed more to do. Over the next three weeks Cedric fetched, carried and generally dogs bodied his way around the entire department. He sent a message to Merrick via an internal memo the first week he had to work over their meeting and received a visit for his pains. Merrick had peered around Cedric’s office with an air of frank suspicion but had been polite enough to Yaxley when the other man had appeared. It seemed that Yaxley had indeed dealt with Amelia Bones.

Then one morning in late June an owl arrived at breakfast with a letter for him. It was such an unusual experience these days that Cedric almost ignored it until his Mum untied the letter and handed it to him.

Come now. Work to be done. C.Y

He glanced at the clock and frowned. He wasn’t supposed to be in the office for another hour yet.

“They want me in early.” He said, frowning at the brief message, trying to work out why he was being summoned so abruptly. 

“Well you’d better go then hadn’t you, dear?” He was already one foot in the flames when called after him. “What about your sandwiches?”

“I’ll pick something up in London.” he said over his shoulder and felt the world spin away from him as the Floo network picked him up. 

He emerged into a scene of absolute chaos, Wizards in bright orange robes were striding everywhere and there was a buzz of tense chatter in the air. The air smelled faintly of smoke and dust and when his gaze drifted towards the end of the Atrium, he saw that the statue and fountain that stood there were in ruins. Being so early into the office he didn’t have to fight for a lift space and managed to make it down the Department within five minutes.

“What took you so long?” Yaxley barked, “I sent that Owl half an hour ago.” He didn’t wait for Cedric to apologise and stalked off in the direction of the Hall of Records at such a pace that Cedric found himself at a near jog to keep up.

As they opened the door to the Hall Yaxley flourished his wand, summoning a large armful of paperwork at him which Cedric barely managed to keep in one pile. 

“Destroy these.”

Cedric barely glanced at the titles, which all seemed to relate to files on former Death Eaters and suspected Death Eaters. It seemed a strange thing to suddenly be preoccupied with after a whole year of hysterical headlines on the subject. “Sir – I thought that…”

Yaxley rounded on him. “Do you want to be back under the thumb of the Aurors, boy?” He didn’t even wait for Cedric to respond and instead leaned in close, his voice low and threatening. “You will destroy those files and if anyone asks you then you never ever saw them. Fail to do this and my protection will no longer extend to you. Do we understand one another.”

It was such a strange change from his normal affable presentation that Cedric was too stunned to do anything more than nod and immediately start vanishing the papers as Yaxley threw them at his feet. They worked in tense silence for another half an hour before the onslaught finally stopped. 

“Good,” Yaxley said eventually. “Now we have one more task to do.” He pulled out his wand and calmly produced a ball of something that glowed white hot and emitted sparks. He guided it up towards the ceiling and held it there. Almost immediately there was a sound like a roll of thunder and a light drizzle began to fall from the ceiling. Cedric looked to Yaxley in confusion.

“Sir, the records – they’ll all be ruined.”

“Very observant, Diggory.” Yaxley said sardonically, glancing down at his watch. “Now this is what you are going to do. You are going to try and stop that charm from raining and if, after five minutes you can’t manage it then you are to go for help. You have not seen me and you arrived to find the charm already in motion. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir.” Cedric said again, wondering with some seriousness if his superior had taken leave of his senses.

“Good.” Yaxley was already half way out the door, siphoning the water out of his expensive woollen cloak with the tip of his wand. “I will summon you to my office later.”

Cedric was left alone and very confused in a room where it was now raining steadily. Perhaps if he’d got the chance to finish his N.E.W.T in charms he might have had a hope in hell but he didn’t even understand the basic incantation here. He tried a few spells to try and halt the deluge but even the ones that temporarily worked only seemed to make it rain harder afterwards. There were now puddles forming on the carpet and he was soaked through to the skin. 

He traipsed out into the corridor leaving a wet streak behind him as his cloak, weighed down by water, trailed behind him.

He saw someone disappearing around the far corner and yelled after them. His relief when they reappeared and came back towards him was swiftly overturned when he found himself face to face with a contemptuous looking Alicia Spinnett.

“Do you know how to call Magical Maintenance?” He said, with as much dignity as he could summon.

Alicia looked at him like he was something from the bottom of her shoe. Then, with a flick of her wand she summoned a memo, pulled out a quill and let the little paper plane zoom away to wherever the Magical Maintenance Wizards hid themselves. That done she turned around and walked back the way she had come.

“Thanks?” Cedric said sarcastically to her retreating back and pulled off his cloak, wringing it out before remembering a charm he could use to dry himself off and directing a stream of hot air slowly over his body until his clothes were warm and dry. He didn’t want to leave until Maintenance actually arrived and stopped it raining which, it turned out, took upwards of an hour.

“Oh, bleeding hell,” one of the Wizards, a stringy grey-haired old man, moaned in disbelief when he took in the sight of the rainstorm. “Yer didn’t tell us it was in here. We’d ‘ave been down long before now.”  
“Just look at this,” the other Wizard stood, hands on hips, looking unimpressed at the destruction. “You’d better hope we can fix this lad or Mr Yaxley will have your hide. Have you told him about this?”

“I – err – no.” Cedric said awkwardly. He had never been a good liar but they didn’t seem to be looking to catch him out.

“You’d better go and find him then.” They grey haired Wizard said sourly, pulling out his wand with a business-like air and striding through the door. Cedric decided that was good enough to be a dismissal and took that as a cue to leave and head back towards the main offices. The hallways were more crowded now and everyone looked nervous and on-edge. He caught traces of conversation in the air and at least twice the name ‘Harry Potter’. Great, he thought bitterly, that was just great.

Yaxley’s office door was shut when he arrived and he stopped, debating whether or not he should go in.

“Minister’s in there and old Scrimgeour.” Grunted a passing Wizard, who was scribbling away on a roll of parchment even as he hurried on past Cedric. Cedric really did not want to come face to face with either of those two men, both of whom probably held very particular opinions about him. Still, Yaxley had seemed strange this morning and had already threatened him for not immediately doing as he’d been told. Cedric took a deep breath, raised his hand and knocked smartly.

There was a pause in the low hum of voices coming through the door and then it swung open to reveal the suspicious looking features of Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror department. Cedric saw the flash of recognition and dislike on the man’s face before he turned back around towards Yaxley.

“The Diggory boy is at the door.”

Yaxley looked up, his expression equally irritated. “Yes, what is it?”

“There’s a problem Sir, one of the rain charms has been tripped down in the Hall of Records. I called Magical Maintenance but – well I think a lot of the files aren’t salvageable.”

“What?” Scrimgeour and Yaxley both spoke at once even as Fudge, who so far had simply stood looking anxious and indecisive, took in a sharp breath.

“It’s as I said Sir,” Cedric swallowed nervously, now feeling completely out of his depth. “They told me you’d want to know at once.”

Yaxley’s face was like thunder. Fudge removed his bowler hat and began to rotate it nervously through his hands muttering about ‘a bad business under his breath. Scrimgeour had finally turned his attention away from Cedric and rounded back on Yaxley.

“Do you mean to tell me that information we need to pursue He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s followers has been destroyed the very day after his return becomes publicly known? How very convenient for your old friends, Yaxley.”

“Am I in charge of Maintenance?” Yaxley spat back. “Perhaps if Fudge had used our money more wisely then such accidents wouldn’t occur…” he suddenly seemed to become aware that Cedric was still standing there. “What are you still doing here? Get out. Go and help Tebbins. I’ll deal with you when I am done here.”

Tebbins proved to be an archivist attached directly to the Auror office. Cedric didn’t want to set foot in that Department given there was a very good chance he would come face to face with someone like Hayes. 

Still an order was an order and Cedric reluctantly found himself helping a harassed middle-aged Tebbins create various piles of information on new cases.

The office got louder and louder as more and more bodies crammed themselves into the confined space.

“What’s happening?” He said eventually when he found himself dodging around three separate groups of Aurors none of whom paid him even rudimentary attention.

“There was a break-in last night. They…they say He was spotted here last night.” Tebbins ran his fingers nervously over his moustache. “Here, in the Ministry itself.”

“Who was spotted?” Cedric frowned. “Is that why the fountain was wrecked?”

“Him.” Tebbins dropped his voice and leaned in close, “You-know-who. He was here. They say he tried to kill Harry Potter but they duelled and Potter bested him.”

“No.” Cedric said stupidly. “He can’t be. All that was rubbish. Everyone knows that.”

“Well everyone was wrong, weren’t they? That Harry Potter had the right of it all along, that’s what I say.”

Cedric didn’t ask any more questions after that. He already had more than enough to be going on with. A stack of brand-new files was taking shape on the desk bearing names like ‘Bellatrix Lestrange’ and ‘Antonin Dolohov’, names that Cedric vaguely remembered hearing before and who must have been known Death Eaters. It couldn’t really be true? And then, slowly, an unpleasant explanation for the day’s events began to coalesce in his mind.

At half past three he was summoned by a grim looking Auror who informed him curtly that Mr Yaxley wanted to see him. The feeling of the large silent Wizard behind him brought back very unpleasant memories indeed and Cedric had to fight down panic as they made their way through the still heaving corridors of the department. When they at last reached Yaxley’s office the Auror knocked once and at the curt ‘Enter’ opened the door and pushed Cedric through it.

Yaxley was sat behind his desk which looked much less chaotic than it had earlier. He pointed to the seat in front of his own. 

“Sit.”

“You used me.” Cedric was surprised to her himself say it even as he thought it. “You destroyed the files and covered your tracks by setting me up. You used me.”

“Very good.” Yaxley said softly, studying him with a look that a Hawk might give to a Sparrow.

“Why?”

Yaxley sighed as if Cedric’s question was unreasonable. “Because you are convenient, Diggory. You have a sufficiently tarnished reputation for me to risk your neck in place of my own.”

“So, is that why you got me to come here?” Cedric snapped, his anger rising as he got to his feet. “So, you could have me arrested and sent back to Azkaban again?” 

“I am not going to have you arrested, Cedric.” Yaxley’s smile was grim. “No, far from it. I intend to promote you.”

“Promote me?” Cedric looked at Yaxley expecting the other man to laugh but there was no sign of humour whatsoever in those cold eyes.

“Oh yes, you’ve proven quite useful so far and today demonstrated your ability to follow orders without asking too many inconvenient questions.” Feeling like someone had cast a soothing charm over him Cedric took in a breath, let his shoulders relax and sat back down. “Still,” Yaxley continued as if they were discussing a particularly irksome tax question. “I will need you to stay at home for a few weeks until things here have calmed down. There is no sign that they suspect us but it would be better for you to be out of sight.”

Cedric nodded without really hearing what was being said beyond the fact that he wasn’t about to be arrested. One final burning question finally surfaced and demanded to be asked.

“Is it true what they’re saying, Sir? That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was seen at the Ministry? That he’s back.”

“Yes,” said Yaxley shortly. “Now go.”

Cedric didn’t look at the Auror as he stumbled out the door and made a beeline for the Floo fires which took him home. His Mother caught him in a tight embrace almost the very second, he emerged into the Kitchen.

“Oh Cedric, I was so afraid, the Prophet…”

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay I’m fine. Everything is going to be okay.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric moves in with Sebastian and it doesn't go unnoticed. Still, some things are more important than politics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the idea in my head that the Pureblood Wizards like Emmett Farnham are akin to the very closed communities of Ultra Orthodox Jews in that they live alongside a main society but are entirely rejecting of and isolated from that society. Those societies can be wonderful places to live and grow up but they're not generally supportive of gay people or their relationships. This is less important for Cedric than it will eventually be for Sebastian who has the opposite journey to Cedric in terms of how he views what Wizarding society should be like.

Cedric spent the next few days back in his old routine before Yaxley and the Ministry. He tried to avoid thinking about anything to do with the strange events that led up to his unexpected holiday. This time of year with the harvest ripening and air full of birdsong also set him thinking of Hogwarts, N.E.W.Ts and the life he could have had if it weren’t for a few stupid seconds of madness.

Then, one morning on the first of July an Owl arrived for him at breakfast.

Would you like to have supper in London tonight?  
\- Sebastian

Cedric grinned to himself and dashed off an instant 'Yes, sooner if you like' in reply. A very short time later Sebastian himself came strolling casually down the garden path towards Cedric's front door.

"Well," he said, brushing his hand self-consciously through his hair, "had my last exam yesterday. I'm a free man."

"Me too," Cedric glanced back into the empty house. "I think we're overdue for some fun, don't you?"

Sebastian gave him that smile that always shot right through him and exploded butterflies in his stomach. "Oh desperately."

Muggle London seemed to be the traditional destination for any young Witch or Wizard who truly wanted to let loose. Provided you were didn't do anything especially stupid the Ministry seemed to be tolerant of drunken escapades by students newly freed from the sometimes-stifling environment of formal education. He was glad to disappear for a while into the anonymous mass of Muggles and enjoy the last of the summer warmth.

He and Sebastian had turned themselves out smartly in Muggle Attire and headed for the clubs. They paused on a bridge spanning the Thames and watched the sun disappear behind the sprawling cityscape. Sebastian kissed him then and murmured in a teasing whisper that they should try to go to Heaven.

Heaven as it turned out was a nightclub decked out in rainbow flags. Sebastian smiled appealingly at the solidly built Bouncers while Cedric cast the charm. It was just a light glamour but it was more than enough for them to be ushered inside and enjoy more free drinks than either of them could really manage.

Cedric had never seen so many men together like this in one place. He tried not to stare as the couples tangled together. The music pulsed right through him, he slipped his arms around Sebastian's waist and pulled him close, losing himself in the music and rush of sensory madness as the lamps whirled mad patterns on the ceiling

"Father's got a London flat," Sebastian's voice was slightly slurred and he leaned on Cedric heavily as they stumbled their way along the shuttered streets of the Mall. "Let's go there."

"Where is it?" Sleep sounded pretty good at the moment even if it meant risking Aberlard Fawley finding him in bed with his son.

"Somewhere. I don't know. Whoops..." Sebastian tripped and almost pulled Cedric down with him, they swayed for a minute, clinging to one another for mutual support. A man, who looked like he was heading out for a morning run, peered at them curiously from the far side of the street. 

Sebastian waved cheerfully. “Hello Muggle!” And had to be shushed by Cedric, himself consumed by another fit of irrepressible giggles. Whatever they had drunk it knocked fire whiskey right out of the stadium.

“Wait, wait I know….” Sebastian climbed his way upright, clinging to Cedric’s body with the determination of a mountaineer and with a furtive look around produced his wand and muttered ‘Point Me’. “Ah yes, here we go!” Cedric let himself be seized by the hand and marched off, with some allowances, in a reasonably straight line towards their destination. 

Less than ten minutes later they turned down a leafy west London street, pushed open a gate and with a tap of a wand were inside the flat. It was very obviously a Magical Dwelling and Cedric felt a little judged by the eyes of the Portraits as they slipped quietly into the kitchen. The sunlight was already creeping in through the large windows and casting pale shadows on the cream walls.

Cedric suddenly felt a little awkward, accustomed as he was to a more homely household environment. “Will your Dad mind us crashing this place?”

Sebastian waved a hand airily as if it was nothing. “No, no of course not. He’s always said I could use it whenever I liked – or well that I SHOULD. In fact, I’m rather sure he means to give it to me once I’m settled down.”

Cedric nodded and then was distracted by the sudden loud growl of his stomach. “Is there any food?”

There turned out to be a good supply of basics in the cupboard, kept fresh with freezing charms. They lit a fire in the grate and sat toasting pieces of bread, sipping cocoa and slowly sobering up. It felt comfortably domestic. 

“I think I’m going to ask Father if I can use this place actually. I’ve got an internship at St Mungo’s…they want to let me do some rather interesting research.”

“Really?” Cedric felt a genuine burst of pleasure and pride for Sebastian. “That’s amazing…”

“It is a bit…” Sebastian smiled shyly. “So, if we’re both going to be in London, well…there is a second bedroom?”

Cedric went home later on that afternoon only long enough to collect his things and explain to his surprised parents that he was moving to London. They couldn’t object and, thanks to Yaxley, neither could the Ministry of Magic. Over the next two weeks they made the place their own, bickering good naturedly about Quidditch Posters or what to do with Cedric’s collection of rare plants. The second bedroom was only ever Cedric’s in name and quickly became the place where oddments and papers Sebastian was working on gradually migrated to.

Cedric woke up late one morning in mid-July to find Sebastian already gone to St Mungo’s for the day. He sat out in the summer sunshine on the small balcony, with a cup of tea in one hand and a book that Emmett had given him in the other, wondering idly if he dared try that recipe for Sole Menieure and realised that he was happy for the first time in what felt like years. 

A barn owl fluttered down with a copy of the Prophet tied to its leg. Cedric sighed and fished in his pocket for the knuts to pay the bird. Sebastian liked to get the Prophet in and wouldn’t hear any objection to it.  
Across the front of the Prophet scrolled the headline ‘Bones found dead – Dark Mark over house’.

He stared at the headline feeling a shameful sense of relief and vindication to know the woman who had led his persecution was dead whilst at the same time hoping desperately it wasn't true.

'...Head of Magical Law Enforcement had been under increasing pressure following the now well-publicised attack on the Ministry by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

The tea sat forgotten on the table and a sparrow hopped hesitantly onto his plate to peck at the crumbs of toast left from his breakfast.

"There is every indication that this is indeed an assassination by the Death Eaters intended to weaken support for current Ministry Policy. Bones had been a leading figure in the push for justice against those who violate International Wizarding Law and had been a longstanding opponent of capitulation to the more extreme demands of those who would further isolate the Wizarding Community to protect it from the dangers Muggle society poses."

That was an interesting way to put it, Cedric thought, and not something the Prophet would have allowed even a few months ago. Anti-Muggleborn sentiment was growing. He read the rest of the paper thoroughly but didn't find anything else nearly as shocking as the murder which splashed across the front page. He tidied away the clutter in the flat with his mind half on other things and decided that it was past due time to go and see if he could find Emmett. They had a lot to talk about after all and he could use the excuse of returning one of the books that he'd already read.

He lit a fire and tossed in some Floo Powder emerging a few seconds later into Diagon Alley. He walked quietly down the street glancing about at the knots of people moving quickly together. It might have been his imagination but everything seemed a little less innocent than it had the day before. Emmett was easy to find, stood in his usual spot with a table full of leaflets. Cedric smiled and waved as he made his way over. Unusually there were two people already at the stall which normally seemed to repel people trying to pass by it. A spotty young man stood beside Emmett and cast Cedric a suspicious look before relaxing as Emmett hailed back in greeting.

"Cedric, how are you? How is the Ministry going?"

"I've been away," Cedric pulled out the book and handed it over. "I wanted to return this. I'm really enjoying the history of Muggle Relations though - not quite done with it."

"No matter, no matter..." Emmett smiled at another Wizard who had hesitantly approached the stall and handed him the same lime green leaflet that he'd given to Cedric during their first proper conversation. "Listen, I was rather hoping that you'd come to visit. Would you like to have lunch with me?"

A short time later they were strolling down the Alley towards The Golden Snitch. "Stan can mind the stall for me while I'm gone," Emmett commented. "He's really quite dedicated. Reminds me of you but with less charisma. So, been away, everything alright with you and Corban? He hasn't mentioned any difficulties?"

The Golden Snitch was an elegant coffee bar with carefully cultivated Victorian décor. The menu offered a range of food in strange exotic combinations in ways that Cedric wasn't sure he could pronounce. The smell of roasted beans and warm air hit him as the door opened and a Witch in forest green robes ushered them to a table.

"No," Cedric commented, arranging his cloak to hang over the back of his chair, "just wanted to let things settle down a bit. Though I suppose that might change now..."

"Yes," Emmett looked at him with a curious intensity. "Amelia Bones, they're saying He did it personally. Dark Mark was above the house."

That information had definitely not been in the Prophet. Cedric raised his eyebrow and Emmett continued in a low, confidential tone. "Things are changing at the Ministry. If you get your foot in now then things could be better for us soon than we'd ever hoped."

"For the Purebloods you mean," Cedric said, cutting off the next part of his sentence while Emmett rattled off his order to the Witch who had now returned. Cedric ordered himself a coffee and checking the coast was clear again added. "We need to find a way to deal with the Muggleborns once and for all. Grindelwald wanted to ban them from reproducing - I don't think I agree."

"Oh?" Emmett looked intrigued. "Surely you're not preaching for the destruction of the Mudbloods quite yet." He smiled and for the first time Cedric saw the hint of something truly unpleasant in it.

"I think they should have their own place." Cedric continued. "Medea Zabini mentions it in her treatise. It's the best way. They'll die out eventually of course but it saves unnecessary bloodshed."

Emmett cocked his head as if considering the point and nodded. "But then that brings us to the next question. How do we continue our society and culture?"

"Well..." Cedric looked around him at the café and Diagon Alley, "by doing what we've always done I suppose."

"Family" Emmett took a great bite of his food and chewed enthusiastically. "We need to bring up a new generation and make them proud of who they are." He gesticulated at Cedric with his fork, "You should be looking to marry and have children."

"I'm 19," Cedric said, a little taken aback. "And I've had other - things - happening."

Emmett gave him a flat, level look. "You have moved in with the Fawley boy."

"Yes." Cedric shifted a little, feeling suddenly defensive.

"Rumour can be a very damaging thing." Emmett continued; his tone studiously casual. "It might be better for you if you made an effort to engage in more - traditional - courtships."

"I can be for Pureblood rights without needing a stack of kids." Cedric said sourly, the whole happy bubble of the last two weeks popping abruptly. "And I can court who I like."

"Oh, absolutely you can," Emmett gave him a tight smile. "I'm just trying to give you honest advice as a friend who wants to ensure that you don't hamper your future with any rash decisions.

Cedric changed the topic with some force after that and they managed to salvage the rest of their lunch with discussion about how to address Goblin demands for autonomy and the proper way to steer Muggle society for the best. By the end of it he'd almost forgotten the unpleasant start to the conversation but still it lurked there like some irritating little splinter, hurting every now and again whenever he thought of it. 

He said goodbye to Emmett at the Floo grate and returned home with more questions than he'd started with. Waiting for him on the table was a letter with Yaxley's seal on it which, when he broke it open, advised him that he was now Junior Assistant to Pius Thicknesse and was to report to work tomorrow morning.

Cedric made a special effort with Supper that evening and was able to play the dutiful husband when Sebastian returned tired and drained from a day of trying to research cures for Werewolf bites. Cedric didn't tell him what Emmett had said about them, He couldn't bring himself to tarnish this one small bubble of happiness in an increasingly bleak world. 

"This is really good, Diggory." Sebastian licked his spoon for the last drops of the sauce and set it down with a satisfied sigh. "Any chance of dessert?"

"Someone must've put an extension charm on you." Cedric joked, presenting the cake with a flourish. "But make the most of it. I'm back to work tomorrow. Yaxley came through with his offer to promote me."

"I suppose someone has to take over from old Amelia," Sebastian sighed. "That really was an awful business wasn't it? I mean it's one thing to seek power through legitimate means, this is well beyond that."

"Emmett thinks we should all be marching in the streets." Cedric shrugged, waving his wand to pile the dishes in the sink and set them cleaning themselves. "I don't know. I think we do need to protect ourselves and the Ministry isn't doing nearly enough."

"Well, let's hope the new Junior Assistant to the head of Magical Law Enforcement can start setting us all on the right path."

"Oh yes," Cedric shot Sebastian a sarcastic glance. "I'll be setting policy by Thursday."

"Never mind work. I err..." Sebastian looked a little mischievous. "I picked up a little something on my way home tonight. You remember the Weasley twins?" Cedric gave him a look that said 'who wouldn't' and let Sebastian continue. "They've got these wonderful little charms that you can use to have some fun and well I thought we could make an evening of it."

"What sort of 'wonderful little charms'..." Cedric asked sceptically.

Sebastian grinned at him. "Nothing sordid, don't look so hopeful. They're more like short adventures. I thought we could tour the stars." He opened up his bag and produced a small package containing two small potion vials marked 'To the Moon and Back'. "We can share. I asked them."

Cedric had a sudden memory of Alfred throwing up spectacularly in his cauldron one potions lesson what seemed like a lifetime ago. "...are you seriously going to drink something invented by Fred and George Weasley?"

"It's approved," Sebastian tapped his finger against the small logo on the bottle, "stop being such a wet blanket."

The charm work really was outstanding. He'd have said 'out of this world' if he hadn't wanted to avoid such an awful and obvious pun. From almost the second the potion touched his lips he felt the world around him melt and blur only to be replaced with a view of the Earth that he'd never imagined. The feeling of his feet hitting the surface of the Moon was jarringly realistic and so was the sense of lightness that came when he tried an experimental jump. Sebastian landed next to him only a few seconds later and looked around, laughing in sheer appreciation.

"How long does it last?"

Sebastian shrugged, jumping and managing a well-executed somersault. "An hour perhaps?"

They made their way in a bounding, leaping progress across the barren landscape, pausing every now and again at some expanse of stars or to admire one of the cities whirling below. It was only the knowledge that this was all an illusion that kept Cedric from firmly believing that they were actually on the surface of the Moon. Eventually when they made it to the top lip of a crater Sebastian pulled Cedric down to sit beside him. They sat for a long-time watching Asia creep past below them and Europe slide into the night. Cedric hadn't really known how to ask before but now it seemed easy. 'Are we...together?"

Sebastian, who had his head resting against Cedric's shoulder barely stirred. "Hmm?"

There was a splodge of light where London was. It felt strange to think that they were really down there. "Us...is there an us or are we just...I don't know."

Sebastian went quiet again. "Do you want there to be?"

"I like who I am when I've with you." He'd never been able to talk to Cho like this. But that had been nearly two years ago now and he'd been a stupid clueless kid back then. "I like you."

"I like you too, Diggory." Sebastian turned to look at him with a frank openness that made Cedric's insides ache for something he couldn't quite name. "In case you hadn't already noticed."

"So, I guess that's a yes then." Cedric turned his head and kissed Sebastian lightly. "Does this mean you might actually call me Cedric now?"

Sebastian shifted and slipped his arm around Cedric's shoulders. "I'll take it under advisement."

The charm ended with a pretty shower of sparks as it gently guided them back down to land in the square outside their house. Cedric took another breath and felt his body stretch luxuriously back to life, By the grandfather clock on the fall side of It had been a little over an hour but felt like much longer.

"That was a brilliant idea. And I take back almost every bad thing I've ever said about the Weasley Twins."

"Almost everything?"

"Well, it is the Weasley Twins." Cedric said, thinking of how close he'd come to detention from laughing at Alfred's uncontrollable vomit.

"True enough." Sebastian stretched and groaned. "There's a programme on the wireless I want to listen to in a little while on the MACUSA elections. Do you mind?"

Cedric shook his head. "No, but I might read. I've got more than enough politics in my life already without adding to it."

He could hear the whisper of the wireless turned down low even as he finally flicked his wand to end the charm light he was reading by. He could have read for longer; Zabini had lived at another time altogether but so many of her ideas seemed relevant even a century later. It was hard to understand why Wizards hadn't done something sooner to address the threat posed by ignorant Muggles and Muggleborns acting out of a misdirected belief that they knew better than people who had centuries of culture and learning behind them. Still, he needed to be rested for work tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaxley uses his new connection with Cedric for his own ends and Cedric sees first hand what denial and incompetent leadership can do to a government. After proving himself useful and able to keep quiet Cedric is invited to a select gathering.

Cedric had never actually met Pius Thicknesse, who had taken over the position of Department Head for the Aurors from Rufus Scrimgeour and now sat atop the whole department. The man seemed preternaturally calm and didn’t give any sign of recognition towards Cedric when he nervously introduced himself that morning. 

“We have a meeting with Rufus and the other heads of Department.” Thicknesse said softly, his pale blue eyes roaming absently about the room. “Corban will come to support the Aurors. I would like you to please take the minutes.”

The meeting room was large, with a fire at one end, a long-polished table dominating its centre and windows which looked out onto rolling sunny lawns. Cedric was relegated to the far end next to Thicknesse and tried to make himself small and unnoticed as one by one senior officials filed in. Cedric didn’t know many of them at all apart from by name. There were three who he did know well; Scrimgeour gave him the usual look of suspicion, Yaxley a curt nod and Umbridge failed to acknowledge him at all.

“Good morning,” Scrimgeour didn’t sit but rather ranged back and forth along one side of the table, looking tense and on edge. “I need not emphasise the seriousness of the events that bring us here today. The supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named have threatened further attacks on Muggles if we do not release those Death Eaters currently held in Azkaban. We must discuss our response.”

There was a polite little cough from the seat that Dolores Umbridge occupied. Cedric felt his hackles rise and made the best show he could of being absorbed in writing the notes.

“We cannot be dictated to by terrorists, Minster.” She smiled sweetly around the table. “All of us here understand the consequences should we do so. There would be anarchy.”

Scrimgeour nodded in acknowledgement of the point and rounded on Thicknesse. “What intelligence do we have on the movements of current supporters? Can we prevent an attack?” 

Thicknesse stirred himself into action. “We have watches on those with suspected involvement; Crabbe, unfortunately, has gone underground we suspect to Albania where the Dark Lord has a known base of sympathisers.”

“Crabbe is a waste of time,” snapped Yaxley cutting off Thicknesse, “tailing suspected cases is a waste of time. The Lestranges are still at large and as long as this is the case, we risk an imminent attack which we cannot prevent. We should try to buy time, negotiate.”

“Oh, you’d like that well enough,” Scrimgeour snapped, rounding on him. “Do not think I have forgotten recent events. You seek only to delay and divert to give time for your real desires to unfold.”

“My real desires?” Yaxley laughed bitterly. “Please, Minister speak directly.”

Scrimgeour looked furious now. “Your loyalties are well known.”

There was a very long, very tense silence. Cedric now had no idea what to write and so opted for the transcription charm, hoping to edit it later.

“This is what He would want.” Yaxley said quietly. “A ministry divided and indecisive. Isn’t that what you were bought into combat, Rufus? You may not trust me but I am all you have right now.”

They were at least polite to one another after that but for all the talk there was very little action. Umbridge vetoed any suggestion of speaking to the Death Eaters and Scrimgeour seemed bent on pursuit and containment of threats at the expense of practical solutions. Cedric copied down outcomes including a poster education campaign and mass Owl delivery of a Ministry leaflet outlining home protections. It felt stupid and short sighted and he was irritated at Thicknesse for not doing more. If this was the leadership that they had no wonder the country was in disarray. 

Cedric spent the remainder of the morning writing up the report and was duly summoned to Thicknesses’ office later that afternoon to deliver it. Yaxley was already there and looked to have been in deep conversation with his new department head.

“Good.” Thicknesse said abruptly, reading through the report. “Yes, please arrange the steps we agreed upon. I want an update by tomorrow afternoon. You may go, you too Yaxley.”

Happy to be dismissed Cedric made a beeline for the door. Yaxley was immediately behind and turned to him as the door shut behind them. “Fools and madmen leading us into a needless war.” 

Cedric, who wasn’t sure if the words were meant for him or for the wider universe glanced over at Yaxley uncertainly. “Scrimgeour doesn’t seem to appreciate your point of view, Sir.”

“No, he does not.” Yaxley said shortly. “And we will see how far that takes him.”

“He’s as bad as Fudge but in a different way.” Cedric said, feeling reassured by the fact that Yaxley had seemed to invite his confidence. “The Ministry seems unwilling to see that…well that trying to suppress the Death Eaters only makes people want to listen to them more.”

Yaxley studied him in silence for a moment. “That is a dangerous thing to say.”

“It’s true though.” Cedric felt his heart beat harder. “The more I read about it the more I can see why it’s important for Wizards to put Wizards first. I mean, maybe we could accept the Muggleborns if they integrated but…but they’ll never really be Wizards will they, you’ve got to be born into it. That’s all that Purity First are saying – put our own people first.”

“The Death Eaters are not Purity First.” Yaxley said slowly. “They urge revolution. Transformation. By violence if needed.”

“Yes,” Cedric stopped suddenly and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to say that the violence is justified.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Cedric jumped as Yaxley clapped him on the back. “Come, we have work to do.”

For the next week Cedric's life was a blur of meetings, note taking and report writing interspersed with barely adequate snatches of sleep and pauses to eat. He and Sebastian didn't have time to speak let alone discuss the stories and rumours flying about Death Eater activity. Cedric listened to the arguments about appeasement and the greatest good growing more and more frustrated with what he heard. People he knew were being attacked. His Mum's cousins, the O'Toole family, had lost their house to a magical blaze and yet the Ministry did nothing. Well that was a lie, it pretended to do something but again just as it had done with him it preferred to be seen to do right rather than actually doing it.

"They've arrested the Conductor of the Knight Bus." Tebbins sounded like he wanted to laugh, Cedric's head snapped up from where he had been bent over a speech for Pius to make to the Assembly later that week. Other people were looking up too, now aware that he had an audience Tebbins continued. "Stan Shunpike, 21, was arrested this weekend on suspicion of planned Death Eater Activity..."

Cedric grew more and more angry and astonished as Tebbins read out the rest of the article. Stan? Stan who liked to come and man the stall in Diagon Alley? Stan who believed that the Aurors wanted to bring down the Ministry of Magic with dental caries and who, the last time Cedric had spoken to him, earnestly lectured him about the nest of Vampires who were secretly taking over the Royal Family. There was no way that the Prophet accusations were true.

"Azkaban," Molyneux, another clerk attached to their small office shook his head. "The way they're going that place will be full soon enough. Mind you, there's some that should be there that aren't and..." he trailed off suddenly becoming aware of Cedric's cold stare. "Not that I'd know much about all that anyway..."

"No. You wouldn't." Cedric said shortly. "So perhaps you'd best keep your opinions to yourself." Molyneux looked as if he'd been kicked and nodded meekly, fading back into his work without another word.

"You're mixed up with that lot," Tebbins said into the tense silence. "I've seen you talking to that Farnham fellow."

"So, what if I am?" Cedric snapped. "I want a peaceful society where people can get on with their lives without Mudbloods and blood traitors conspiring to bring down the whole thing and have Muggles murder us for our magic." He was surprised at himself for using the slur; he'd tried not to make a habit of it so far, out of some long-held loyalty to Alfred he supposed, but Tebbins was insufferable with his passive accusing eyes.

"If you apologise for that disgusting language," Tebbins said mildly, "I'll consider not reporting you for your disrespectful behaviour and speaking up in favour of violent extremists."

Cedric laughed in his face. 'Go right ahead old man."

Tebbins gathered up his possessions from his desk with an air of furious finality and left.

*

Tebbins did not return to their shared office. Cedric returned the next day to find his place taken by Alicia Spinnett who didn't so much as look at him. Molyneux kept his head down and scribbly silently at his desk tackling what seemed a never-ending pile of reports. Half way through the morning Cedric got a memo to report to Yaxley's office. The Head of his Office didn't seem to be in a particularly bad mood and Cedric took it as a good sign that Yaxley opened the door himself with something close enough to a smile to put him at ease.

"Sit down, Cedric." Cedric sat in the hard high backed seat and resisted the urge to ask questions as Yaxley poured himself a glass of something and sat down opposite him. "Tebbins has resigned."

"Sir?"

"He claims he cannot continue to work in an organisation that panders to hatred and supports criminals." Yaxley's face was inscrutable. "And cited you specifically as the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. What should I make of this?"

Cedric shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I know Stan Shunpike, Sir. He's an idiot but he's not violent. The Ministry are just persecuting Purebloods again because they know we'll fight back against their attempts to destroy us."

Yaxley studied him again, sipping his drink. "Do you think we should fight back?"

"Well, I knew someone once who said that it was right to fight or even kill if your family and society were at risk." Cedric had thought about Moody a lot over the last few weeks. Moody who had really been a Death Eater, who had been the first person to talk to Cedric about the idea that it was right for Wizards to fight and kill other Wizards for the greater good of the cause. Cedric liked the logic of having an ultimate authority, the simplicity of it all. It was so much easier than trying to work out motivations in a world that seemed far too complicated.

Yaxley wasn't about to let him off the hook. "But what do you think? You of all people know what it is to suffer pain caused by Muggles and Ministry interference and be punished for feeling that pain."

"I think...that it shouldn't have to happen." Cedric said slowly. "But if there is no other way...then yes. I think violence is justified."

Yaxley didn't say anything but flicked his wand so that a second glass landed on the desk in front of Cedric. Another flick had it filling with the same Amber liquid that Yaxley's glass held. Cedric matched Yaxley as he raised his glass in a salute and took a sip of the liquid.

"It would be prudent for you to be a little more mindful of whom you are speaking to and where you are speaking." Yaxley said finally. "You may speak freely with me of course, however others do not share our clear-headed assessment of what needs to be done, nor our commitment to pursuing that goal."

"Can we do anything about Stan?" Cedric asked quietly. "No one deserves to be in that - place."

"The Shunpike boy is an unfortunate casualty of circumstance." Yaxley frowned. "There will come a time soon when things change."

After that everything seemed cast in a different light. He read the Prophet each day now, to keep up with the news and rumour and prepare himself for whatever the day had ahead. He could see it over and over again. There would be a warning that an attack would happen and a request that if carried out would prevent it and then the Ministry would delay and capitulate so that more people would die. It was so pointless. It wasn't as if it would be so bad to have a government that had proper control over people and who didn't allow nonsense like Witches and Wizards mating with Muggles and endangering magical society. Sebastian and he had argued for the first time about the proposal for a Muggleborn Registration Committee. Cedric could see the benefit in having a proper regulated way to ensure they behaved according to proper Wizarding standards. Sebastian had torn strips off him and called him an idiot who didn't know what he was supporting. Cedric had smashed a bust in an explosion of accidental magic. Both of them had stopped at that point, shocked more to be so angry at one another than the loss of the bust itself.

Cedric knew from reading and from going to the meetings that were increasingly well attended that Emmett wasn't unusual in his opinion of relationships like the one he and Sebastian were forming. He also knew, more deeply than he knew almost anything at all anymore, that no one was making him give up this one speck of light in the darkness. After that first argument they had agreed not to talk about Death Eaters or politics anymore and now lived a strange, isolated life away from the forces tearing the world around them apart. When he got home and shut the door, he didn't have to be a Ministry Official or a Pureblood Wizard or the boy who had gone to Azkaban as a victim of Ministry persecution. He just got to be the lucky person that Sebastian Fawley had chosen to love.

He was careful at work too now, heeding Yaxley's warning to be careful about publicly declaring one view over another. It took another month for him to be roused enough to forget himself again.

It was Alicia Spinnett who goaded him into it. Cedric still nursed a grudge against her for the incident in the Great Hall nearly two years ago where she had insulted and belittled him in front of the whole school. Most of the time he, as assistant to Thicknesse, didn't have to speak directly to her. She was the liaison person for Magical Games and Sports and there wasn't a lot of direct overlap but they still shared an office. Working in such close proximity with her hadn't improved his opinion in the slightest. She was still the same hard headed, judgemental person she had been when she had interfered in the Creevey kid incident that had led to everything going wrong.

Normally they ignored one another. He assumed she, like Tebbins and so many others in the Ministry, felt that he was undeserving of the freedom and role he now had and should have been left to waste away and die in Azkaban.

Today Alicia had chosen to take her lunch at her desk and was gossiping loudly with her friend Penelope.

"And now they've had Dementor Attacks in the next village over, Mum's talking about moving back to London, says it's safer here near the Ministry."

He hadn't meant to cough, really he hadn't, but hearing particular piece of idiocy while having a mouthful of tea made it very difficult to avoid. Both women glared at him. "No one asked for your opinion, Diggory." Alicia said tartly.

"That's alright, Spinnett," he retorted, getting his composure back. "If your Mother wants to be foolish enough to believe every piece of vapid advice that comes out of Scrimgeour's mouth that's no skin of my nose."

"Oh yeah, and who else is she supposed to listen to?" Alicia's lip curled. "You and your bigot brigade? We all know what kind of world you want, Diggory. Harry Potter will end all this rubbish. My sister knows someone who works in the Department of Mysteries. It's true what they say about him."

"The only thing true about Harry Potter" Cedric spat the name out like it tasted bad. "Is that he is an arrogant child who is saved by nothing else apart from luck and Dumbledore's favour. If half of what they say about that so-called duel is true then he should be in Azkaban himself."

"He is the Chosen One." Penelope said tightly, "he can defeat You-Know-Who."

"Don't make me laugh." Cedric shot back. "How is a sixteen-year-old boy supposed to defeat the greatest Wizard of all time. I tell you what you need to do Spinnett. You need to think very carefully about whose side you are on."

There might have been more hard words exchanged if Yaxley hadn't entered at that very moment. He looked coolly between the two girls and Cedric. "I trust everything is well here."

"We were just leaving Mr Yaxley," Alicia stood and hooked her arm through Penelope's and left the room hurriedly. Yaxley didn't comment any further and instead produced another pile of documents for Cedric to check, cross reference and file. "Pius would like these by tomorrow afternoon, Diggory."

The next day Yaxley was waiting for him when he arrived into work and beckoned him over. “Cedric, walk with me.” 

Cedric dropped his bag and made his way across the room, feeling a little nervous that he was about to be reprimanded for what he had said to Spinnett about Potter. Despite the clear understanding that Potter’s name was mud when it came to their more personal work Cedric knew he needed to be careful under the current Ministry regime. Instead Yaxley smiled at him and put an arm around Cedric’s shoulders, steering him out the corridor and towards Yaxley’s own office.

“I have been watching your work here. I have been very impressed at your commitment and dedication. Very impressed indeed.”

Yaxley waved the door to his office open and made his way over to his desk, pausing to summon two glasses and a bottle of something that, to Cedric at least, looked very expensive.  
Yaxley was smiling again. “Will you have a drink with me?”

“Of course, Sir.” Cedric felt his earlier nerves evaporate as the glass chinked gently into his hand. He took a sip and felt the warmth of the liquid trickle down his throat and fill him with a fuzzy contentment. 

“Tell me,” Yaxley still maintained a convincing air of beneficent nonchalance but underneath it was a sudden hardening of his manner. “Do you really believe what you said the other day to the Spinnett girl concerning Harry Potter?”

This was difficult. Cedric knew how tense things were at the Ministry. If he said the wrong thing now then his life as it was now, which all things being equal he was rather fond of, would be at risk. Still, why would Yaxley invite him here for a drink and a chat if he wanted to discipline him?

“I think that the Ministry is on the wrong path, Sir. They’re wrong to let so many Muggleborns into our world. We should keep our world for us and protect it. Harry Potter is the symbol of all that they want to achieve.”

“You are an unusual young man, Cedric.” Yaxley sipped his drink and regarded Cedric shrewdly. “After all, you admit yourself that you once mixed freely with Mudbloods and Blood traitors yet now you have come somehow to this path.”

“I suppose,” Cedric met Yaxley’s pale blue eyes steadily. “I suppose that sometimes it takes pain to change a person’s mind.”

“Quite.” Yaxley smiled as if he had satisfied himself of something important. “You will join me for dinner this Saturday night. I am having a gathering of - likeminded - people.”

Cedric returned Yaxley’s smile. This was definitely better than being disciplined and sacked. “I’d be honoured, Sir. Thank you.”

“Good,” Yaxley became business like again, swallowing the remainder of his drink in one go and setting the glass down with a sharp tap. “You may return to your duties.”

Cedric was almost at the door when Yaxley spoke up again. “Oh, and Cedric, attend alone.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Did he say who any of these ‘like minded people’ were?” Sebastian stood in the doorway to the bedroom looking anxious as he watched Cedric change into his best dress robes. 

“Nope.” Cedric shrugged, tapping his wand and frowning as he tried to make the collar to the robes lie properly. “Help me with this?”

Sebastian sighed and stood in front of him, his gaze focused down on the troublesome collar. “There, perfect.” He stepped back to take in Cedric’s entire appearance. “Of course, now all I want to do is take you back out of those.”

Cedric chuckled fondly. “Well that will have to wait. I don’t know when I’ll be back either.” He added, realising how little he knew about what the evening ahead held.”

Sebastian didn’t seem ready to let it lie either. “Do you really have to go? I mean – Yaxley is a hardliner. You could be walking into something you can’t get out of very easily.”

Cedric gave Sebastian a look of mingled exasperation and sympathy. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree that Sebastian’s worries had any foundation, more that he accepted the possibility that they did and had decided to go anyway.

“I will be fine.” He said soothingly. “Yaxley invited me personally. It’s probably just a chance to make progress on my Ministry career.”

Still it wasn’t without some nervous anticipation that Cedric made his way up the long driveway of Yaxley’s West London home and rapped smartly on the front door. He gave his name to the house-elf that opened it and dropped his cloak into its waiting hands. 

“They are in the drawing room, Sir.” It squeaked before melting back into the background as if would rather not be seen and scurrying ahead of Cedric to announce him.

The drawing room was easy enough to spot, light from a flickering fire spilled out into the hall and a woman’s low throaty laughter echoed out into the silence. The door opened to reveal three seated figures around the fireplace. Not so much a party as a small gathering then. Cedric couldn’t make out their features, silhouetted as they were against the bright light of the flames.

“Master,” the elf’s high-pitched voice quailed. “Cedric Diggory has come to see you.”

One of the figures stood up. “Cedric,” Yaxley’s voice sound tight with anticipation. “Come in.”

Cedric did so, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he made his way into the room. 

“This, this is who you brought us here to meet?” The woman’s voice was full of scorn and derision. “You spoke of an ally to our cause, Corban. And instead bring us a boy barely out of school. What use do we have for children?”

Cedric had to fight not to take a step backwards as he finally got a clear look at the two other people present in the room. Yaxley had resumed his seat, gesturing impatiently to the house-elf to fetch Cedric a drink. Seated opposite him in two tall backed arm-chairs sat Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.

“See how he fears us?” Bellatrix sneered at him. “Are you going to run boy? Tell the Ministry of what you have seen?”

Rodolphus laid a restraining hand on the arm of his wife as she rose. “Let him at least speak before we judge him, Bella.” He turned his gaze on Cedric who found that he recognised the hollow gaze of one who had known Dementors. “So, you have seen us. You know us and the cause for which we fight. What do you have to say?”

“He can be trusted.” Yaxley said quietly. “I have satisfied myself of that much. The boy has already helped you, Bellatrix, he had been instrumental in misdirecting the affairs of the Department away from our activities.”

“He is too young.” Bellatrix sniffed. “Draco has us to support him. This boy…what help can his family provide him?”

“If you don’t want me here,” Cedric said steadily, putting every ounce of courage into keeping his body from showing the fear he felt. “Then I will leave.” He took another breath. “But Yaxley is right. I do support your cause. If you want it to succeed you need me and others like me alongside you.”

Bellatrix was looking at him with a little more interest but when she spoke her tone was still shot with a dismissive scepticism. “Have you even cast a dark curse before?”

“Yes.” Cedric said simply, flicking his gaze sideways. Yaxley was the still his Head of Department even if it seemed he was also a Death Eater. Cedric wasn’t about to give anymore away than he needed to at this point.

This time Bellatrix got to her feet and stood before him. He had over a foot in height on her but she made that seem like nothing. She was staring at him and he had the strangest sensation of being invaded. 

Things he hadn’t remembered in months suddenly burst to the front of his memory. The Muggle. Azkaban. Moody.

“What are you…” he started to say but before almost as soon as it had begun it was over.

“He is not lying.” Bellatrix announced, she broke her gaze and Cedric shook his head, trying to clear the feeling of having had a hurricane blow through mind. “You were taught by Bartemieus Crouch.”  
“Yes,” Cedric said slowly, “But I didn’t know it was him.”

“Still,” she turned back to Yaxley. “I admit I may have been too hasty.”

“He is young.” Yaxley gave Cedric a brief apologetic look as the tension began to recede from the room. “I do not believe the Dark Lord would accept him yet. If you could train him…prepare him…”

Bellatrix looked back at Cedric once more, seeming to weigh him up and then nodded. “You may bring him to the Manor. I will speak to the Dark Lord.”

Cedric accepted the drink pressed into his hand by the elf and sipped it in silence as Yaxley and the Lestranges began to put in place the arrangements for him to attend these lessons. No one had asked him if he wanted to do it but then, he supposed, by coming here in the first place he had already made that decision for himself.

If he hadn’t been filled with such roiling terror, he wouldn’t have believed that he was really here and that the man who had shown him such consistent attention and interest over the last months was not only a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but a marked Death Eater. Scrimgeour had been right.

He returned home at past three in the morning and felt the weight of the evening lift the second he was through the door. Sebastian was snoring in the arm chair, a book discarded on the floor where it had fallen. Cedric tucked a blanket over him and headed to bed. So much for being taken out of his dress robes.

*

Sebastian had come to join him in bed at about six that morning and so far they hadn’t left it. Cedric had managed to avoid the topic of his night time activities up until this point by a combination of distraction and redirection. It was as if he wanted to pretend that what had happened was some dystopian nightmare. 

Eventually his efforts at avoidance ran out and Sebastian sat up and fixed him with a significant look “So, seriously…who was at the party?” 

Cedric felt his stomach turn over as he remembered Bellatrix burning through his mind. He didn’t want to tell Sebastian what had happened because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to deal with the consequences. But Sebastian was about the only person he could trust enough to tell.

“What’s wrong? Ced?” Sebastian was staring at him now with open concern. The quiet sanctuary of their home was being invaded by the outside and there was nothing he could do about it.  
“Death Eaters.” He choked out, not wanting to meet Sebastian’s eyes. “Yaxley is one of them.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a long moment and then he sighed. “They want to recruit you.”

Cedric nodded, feeling an unexpected surge of fear. “I told them I agreed with them. I mean…I thought I did but – but now it feels…”

“Real.” Sebastian finished for him and Cedric let himself be held in a close embrace. “Do you have a choice?”

“No.” Cedric shook his head. “I know too much now. I think I have to go through with it.”

“Okay.” Sebastian said quietly, his tone flat and resigned.

“Okay?” Cedric looked up at him. “I tell you that I’ve been hand picked by a Death Eater for recruitment and you say ‘Okay’ like I’ve – decided to dye my hair magenta?”

“I’m not happy about it.” Sebastian stayed where he was, arms around Cedric. “But we’re not their targets. If you do what they say and keep quiet then we can get through this and out the other side.”   
Cedric pulled back to study Sebastian’s grave face. “You’re right. We – I can do this.”

“You can.” Sebastian bit his lip. “Just don’t tell me what you don’t have to. I don’t want to know if you have to…I want to still be able to look at you and see you.”

*  
Yaxley didn’t acknowledge him when they next crossed paths on Monday. For a few days Cedric breathed easier thinking that maybe they had changed their mind and wouldn’t be summoning him to wherever it was Bellatrix Lestrange was hidden away. Then, on Thursday night came the note mixed in with the papers from Yaxley.

Friday. Seven pm

Sebastian didn’t ask any questions when Cedric told him that he would be away on Friday night. Cedric forced himself to eat a full meal which they shared in awkward silence and then at a quarter to Seven kissed Sebastian goodbye and headed out into the night. Yaxley was waiting for him at the end of his own driveway dressed in dark flowing robes and cast his eye over Cedric’s own, equally practical attire with an approving nod. 

“Do not show fear.” He said brusquely, grasping Cedric firmly by the upper arm and twisting away into nothing.

They made their way through a set of wrought iron gates and up a winding gravel path. Cedric caught glimpses of ornamental gardens and the call of unseen birds in the fading evening light. Ahead of them loomed an imposing neogothic structure that dominated the grounds in which it was set. Yaxley didn’t knock but pushed open the door and led Cedric down a wide corridor.

The room they entered looked as if it had once been a ballroom, the floor was smooth and polished wood with a dais at one end where the band would have stood to play, mirrors lined the walls though now only reflected shadows and dim flames from the four fires burning in each corner.

Bellatrix Lestrange was sat in a chair atop the dais, lounging in it as if it were a throne. 

She nodded curtly towards Yaxley. “Corban.” Her eyes glittered with anticipation as she turned her attention to Cedric. “And the boy. You may go, Corban. I will summon you when we are finished.”  
Yaxley looked towards the door. “Is He here?”

“Travelling.” Bellatrix still had her eyes fixed on Cedric. “I am sure Narcissa would be glad of your company in the absence of Lucius however.”

When they were finally alone Bellatrix climbed down from the dais and walked in a wide circle around him as if taking his stock. Cedric remembered how Moody had used to duel and so had his wand ready when she finally moved lightening quick and sent a hex straight at him. It bounced off his shield and exploded against the mirrored walls.

The next curse was stronger and the force of it made him stumble back. Bellatrix let out a delighted laugh. “You don’t win a duel with defensive spells, boy.”

Against all his expectations Cedric felt a smile creep across his face as he sent a burst of blue fire by way of reply to her taunt. This was what he enjoyed. He had forgotten how good it could feel to test your wits and strength to their very edge. 

This was Bellatrix Lestrange though and even his few months with Moody still left him a rank amateur compared to her skill. 

A curse he hadn’t properly deflected caught him in the arm sending the whole thing numb. He paused long enough to make sure it was still there and then fired back a series of savagely cast Reductor curses that she blasted aside as if they were paper planes.

He was sweating and sucking in air when she finally paused in her onslaught some five minutes later. She wasn’t even out of breath. She tilted her head, considering him. “You have some skill.” 

Cedric ran a hand through his hair trying to get it back in place. “I had a good teacher.”

Bellatrix nodded once at the mention of her old friend. “Still, some things cannot be taught.”

She directed her wand in an almost offhand manner towards a collection of what Cedric took to be old sacks and discarded furniture. That was, until it groaned. A man was being dragged across the floor towards them. He looked barely conscious. 

“This…creature.” Bellatrix snarled at the figure and jabbed her wand savagely drawing a howl of pain from it. “Attempted to challenge my Master some four weeks ago and has been undergoing education ever since.”

“Please…” the man’s hands scrabbled at the floor to try and slow his progress. “Please.”

Cedric stared as the man raised his head to look up at them. “Hayes?”

The Auror gave no sign of recognition at the sound of his name and stared blankly back at Cedric. 

“Corban seemed to think you might enjoy teaching him.” Bellatrix leered down at the prone man as she spoke. “Do you have the stomach for it?”

This was it then, the moment of truth. He was either going to be standing beside Bellatrix and her Master or he was going to be down there with Hayes. 

“If you cannot do it…” Bellatrix began, her voice dangerously soft. 

Cedric blocked her out and stared down at the man before him. He knew the curse he wanted to use and he knew exactly what it would do. This man and those like him had thought Cedric’s life worth nothing. This man had abused his power like so many others in the Ministry and thought that he could get away with it because his victim was nothing but a criminal with no rights and no dignity. 

Well. He would make Hayes sorry they had ever crossed paths. 

“Crucio.”

The first time he had ever cast this curse was on a spider. The gnome had been different again but this was something stronger than either of those experiences. He could feel the scorn and rage pouring out of him and into the ferocity of the magic. 

The sound of the screams seemed fuzzy and distant. 

He didn’t want to stop. No wonder they tried to prevent people casting this. It had to stop eventually though. He felt dizzy and drained but elated with the rush of power that he’d felt and the relief of having somewhere to put all that pent-up rage.

Cedric was breathing very hard and he could feel the heat from Bellatrix’s body as she pressed full length against him. 

Hayes was beyond coherence now and it was easier to forget that he had ever begged for his life. None of that mattered anyway, there was no way that the man would leave this room alive

“Do it again,” she breathed, sending a shiver right through the core of his body, and then again lower in a sultry whisper murmured. “Do it again.”

Cedric glanced down. “I think he’s unconscious.” 

Bellatrix shrugged. “No matter.” There was the crack of a spell and the sound of a body hitting the floor. Cedric jerked in surprise as hands suddenly found their way to parts of his body that he generally didn’t share with other people.

“Madame Lestrange….” Cedric began, taking a step backwards as she reached up to put her hands on his shoulders, running down over his forearms and resting on his hips. 

“Call me Bella.” She turned against him and brought his arms around her, pulling his wand hand up to rest over her heart. “You would like to call me Bella, wouldn’t you?”

“I…” Cedric began uncertainly. The heady rush of power from the curses was starting to leave him now and he felt suddenly drained. “Your husband…”

“Leave Rodolphus to me.” She said softly. “You have nothing to fear from him.” 

And with that she kissed him. It wasn’t like any kiss he’d had before, those had all been mutual affairs where he both invited and returned the affection shown. This was possessive. He was being claimed.

“You are such a beautiful boy.” She said thoughtfully, tangling her hands in his hair and turning his face first one way and then the other, studying him as if he were some prize object in her collection. “Azkaban did not take that from you.”

Cedric stood motionless letting her manhandle him even as his mind screamed at him to do something. But do what? 

There was another soft laugh against his skin and the graze of teeth against his neck. “You think it feels good now?” He cried out as she bit down. “Just wait.”

And then she was gone, stepping back away from him and calling for Yaxley to take him back to London. 

That was how it began and how it continued. Over the following weeks Cedric would visit the Manor once and sometimes twice a week. Narcissa Malfoy was an occasional presence or some other figures whose faces Cedric never saw in full light. Otherwise Cedric and Bellatrix Lestrange spent much of the evenings alone in a pattern of relentless study punctuated with the same strange interludes of intimacy.   
If Crouch, or Moody as Cedric still found himself calling him, had been elegant then she was pure dark grace. Her onslaught, when they duelled, was merciless and at least once he had become so distracted by admiration for her skill so as to allow her curse to find its mark. She had held him there, pinned in agony and pleading with her to let him up for a full five minutes. 

Bellatrix liked to play with her victims. 

She was playing with him too and he wondered more than once if that made him a victim too. He never invited any affection but neither did he stop her. He wanted more of the feelings the magic she shared gave him, of clarity and control and release. 

He knew she was pleased with his progress. The bruises and bites that Sebastian passed over silently when he caught sight of them were proof enough of her affection. Always though he remained on the edge of things. He knew the Manor was the centre of the Dark Lord’s networks but Cedric had never seen any sign of Him.


	17. Chapter 17

October and November slipped by, the nights drew in and the weather grew colder. As it turned to Advent Sebastian found a tree from who knows where and they took their time decorating it one Saturday morning. They were lounging on the couch and admiring it, Sebastian leaning back against Cedric’s chest with a glass of mulled wine and a mince pie in the other when Sebastian finally spoke.

“I’ve been thinking maybe we should go.” 

Cedric had half expected this but even so wasn’t ready for it. “To the Parkinson Ball? You know we can’t…people will talk.”

Sebastian’s body tensed. “No, not to the Ball. Go away. Away from the country. Just until this blows over.”

Cedric sighed. “It’s not going to blow over, Seb. The Dark Lord will…”

“There were five new cases of Lycanthropy this week.” Sebastian continued quietly. “This week. That’s more than we had in a whole year before He returned. Two of them were children.”

“It’s…in the end it will be for the best. Once the Dark Lord is in power there won’t be any more attacks. It will be a better world.”

“Will it though?” Sebastian uncurled his body and sat up; his features lined with worry. “I used to think that but now, looking at this world I don’t want it.”

“That’s because it’s not finished yet.” Cedric felt the mix of fear and hope that filled him every time he thought about the world that Bellatrix spoke so passionately of. “He still has work to do and anyway what’s the alternative? You’ve seen what they do, those Mudbloods and blood traitors. They can’t rule and they can’t keep us safe.”

“You trust a Wizard who allowed a Werewolf to bite a five-year-old boy to keep us safe?” There was real anger in Sebastian’s face now mixed in with fear.

Cedric shook his head, thinking of Bellatrix and the way she could pull his thoughts out of his mind. If she saw this then… “Don’t say things like that. You don’t understand.”

“I understand enough to know I’m losing you.” Sebastian reached down and took Cedric’s hands in his. “You’re changing and you can’t even see it. I want to get us away from all this before it’s too late.”

“I’m not changing.” Cedric said, sounding unconvincing even to himself. “I’m the same person I’ve always been. And I’m not leaving.” His throat closed over his next words but he forced them out anyway. “You can go if you want to. I won’t stop you but I can’t. It’s…I’m in it already.”

“Okay.” Sebastian said in a flat, defeated tone. Then he sighed and plastered an overly cheerful smile on his face. “So where do you want to go for Christmas?”

It was good to have something happier to look forward to. As much as disagreed with Sebastian about the worthiness of the Dark Lord’s aims life was still growing relentlessly darker while the war raged on. 

In the week before the winter solstice there were more dark tidings in the Prophet. Cedric was unsurprised by the news of Muggle disappearances. He’d seen some of them himself when Bellatrix had taken him down to the dungeons to find some new victim for him them to use. They were the relatives of half-bloods and Muggleborns who needed silencing. 

The Solstice fell on a Sunday evening. He had spent the weekend with his parents who were slowly coming around to the idea of Sebastian. It had been a good day with no mention of death or war. His Dad was in good spirits about the turn up in his potions business and proud that Cedric was becoming a known face at the Ministry always over Thicknesses’ shoulder.

“We’d better be going,” he said cheerfully, giving his Mum a squeezing hug. “I’ll see you in a few days for Christmas.”

Sebastian and his Dad shook hands courteously enough and they parted with Sebastian promising to provide the latest research on Lycanthropy and Wolfsbane to him as a Christmas present.   
When he and Sebastian got back to the flat Cedric didn’t even bother unfastening his cloak. 

“You have to go I suppose.”

“They said there’s a meeting.” He knew he sounded vague but Bellatrix hadn’t been very specific to begin with.

Sebastian gave him a flat look. “Don’t wait up?”

Cedric shrugged. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. You know how it is.”

*

He had never actually seen the Manor in daylight, perhaps it looked less imposing when it was sunny. Cedric ignored the approach of a peacock who waddled over looking for food and strode forward. 

Bellatrix was waiting for him in the main hallway looking both excited and on edge. “The Dark Lord is here. I have vouched for you. You are to attend our gathering.” He must have shown the fear he was struggling to keep down because she gave him a wide smile. “Sweet boy.” She planted a hard kiss against his lips. “Don’t look so afraid. This is an honour…the greatest honour.”

“I know.” He said softly, thinking about Sebastian and his parents and the sacrifices he would make to keep them safe. “It’s what I want.”

The ballroom where they practiced their duelling was set up like an audience chamber. Chairs lined up on either side and the chair that occupied the raised Dais now looked more like a throne than ever. It had been empty when they first entered but already figures in long black cloaks and hoods drawn up were quietly filing into the room. Bellatrix pushed him firmly to a chair at the far end of the row furthest from the dais.

“Remain silent.” She said in a low whisper. “And if the Dark Lord should call on you; do whatever he commands of you.”

More and more people entered until at last all the seats were filled. Cedric had no idea who the person beside him was. He thought he recognised Yaxley by his bearing but there was no way to be sure. The atmosphere grew suddenly tense and total silence fell. 

The door at the dais end of the ballroom opened and Lord Voldemort entered the room. There was a rustle and scrape as everyone around Cedric sank to their knees. He wasted no time in doing likewise and stared fixedly at the pattern of the woodwork.

The command when it came was given in a quiet, cold voice. “You may rise.”

Cedric barely dared look at the Dark Lord who stood calmly before his assembled followers, surveying them. He didn’t look human, but of course he was more than Human now. The Dark Lord had made his own sacrifices for the power he now wielded. Eventually he moved to the throne and sat. No one else moved.

“My friends,” the Dark Lord spread his hands wide. “welcome.”

That seemed the signal everyone was looking for and now they sat, their attention fixed on the dais. 

“We welcome a new friend tonight.” Those scarlet eyes were fixed on him. “Come forward, Cedric Diggory.”

There was a stir at the sound of his name. Cedric felt like he was wading through treacle as he stood and made his way to the centre of the room.

“Yaxley and Bellatrix speak highly of you. They are not easily impressed.”

Cedric couldn’t hold that gaze. “My Lord.”

“Come closer, let me look at you.”

Cedric wondered how his legs were still supporting him as he moved forward feeling numbly terrified. He was right before Voldemort now staring transfixed into those merciless eyes. There was that sensation again, of being laid open with all of his most private thoughts on display.

“It seems that their praise is merited. Take your place.”

“Yes, my Lord, thank you.” Cedric made his way back to his place and felt his heart gradually begin to slow.

After a few seconds Lord Voldemort spoke again. “What progress have we made since last we gathered?” 

“My Lord,” one of the people closest to the throne got to their feet and moved to the centre of the room, bowing low before he continued. “Our work at the Ministry continues as planned.” Cedric realised with a jolt that it was Yaxley speaking. “We have trusted supporters in every department. Scrimgeour has been unable to coordinate his response and his hold on power is weakened daily.”

Names of various heads of department were named as Yaxley continued his report, more than even Cedric, who had been watching for it, had expected. 

The Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. “Our position grows stronger. You have done well Yaxley.” 

“My Lord.” Yaxley bowed again and resumed his seat. 

“Greyback, your account.”

A brutal looking man with yellowed teeth and mattered grey hair stood and began to speak. Cedric, lost in thought of Sebastian and the accounts of children and Muggles admitted to St Mungo’s with Werewolf bites, missed the end of the speech. 

“Now, what do you have to tell us, Draco?”

Cedric watched as the room’s attention shifted to follow the Dark Lord’s gaze which had fixed itself on the slight figure seated between Bellatrix and a stoop shouldered Wizard.

The last time Cedric had seen Draco Malfoy he had been a cocky fifteen-year old who had swaggered about the school as if he owned it. There was not much of that confidence left in the boy who stood now and walked, trembling, to bow before the Dark Lord.

“I have no progress to report, My Lord.”

“That much is clear.” The Dark Lord’s voice cracked like a whip and Draco Malfoy visibly flinched.

“I – I am trying,” the boy stammered, “but it’s taking longer than I thought.”

“I do not want your excuses or your apologies, Draco. I want what you have promised me you. I will not tolerate any more failure from your family. If you wish your Father to live after I retake Azkaban you will not delay any further.”

Draco swayed where he stood, seeming like he might be about to faint. The air seemed to be gone from the room as everyone present waited to see what would happen next. Lord Voldemort sneered at the shaking boy and waved a hand lazily.

“Get out.”

Draco bowed his way out of the room. As he passed the place where Cedric sat Cedric could see his face was streaked with tears.

When the Dark Lord spoke again it was as if his previous anger had evaporated completely. “And now I believe Narcissa has arranged a banquet to mark the occasion of the Solstice. I trust we will not keep her waiting any further?” 

The meeting ended the same way that it had begun and the tense silence evaporated almost the moment that Voldemort had left the room. His acknowledgment by the Dark Lord seemed to make Cedric suddenly visible. He was greeted warmly and had his hand shaken by Wizard after Wizard. It felt like some twisted version of a family reunion.

Yaxley clapped him on the back warmly as he entered the dining room and steered him to sit with him and a group of older, hard faced men who looked at him like the green boy he was. The food was very good and Cedric had to be hard with himself not to overindulge on the wine. He knew that Bellatrix would not let him leave without a farewell and she had not yet re-appeared.

After midnight he finally excused himself and made his way quietly to the ballroom, wondering if she would be there. The sound of voices floated up the corridor.

“…must apply yourself. Try again.” That was Bellatrix and he couldn’t imagine that she would speak to the Dark Lord like that. He took a steadying breath and pushed open the door. 

Draco Malfoy was stood opposite his Aunt, his expression a mixture of despair and defiance. Between them was one of the Muggle hostages, a girl this time. At the sound of Cedric’s entrance he lowered his wand and shot Cedric a resentful look. Bellatrix turned and smiled. 

“Here is your example, Draco.”

The boy looked tired and defeated. “Please, Aunt I just want to go to bed.”

There was a dangerous flash in Bellatrix’s eyes. “The Dark Lord does not tolerate lukewarm followers Draco. You must learn the Art, cast the curse.”

“I can’t.” Draco’s voice cracked and Cedric hoped upon hope that he wouldn’t start weeping again. 

Bellatrix made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat and swept across the room towards Cedric, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and tugging his head back with a hand in his hair. He could feel her hot breath against his neck as she murmured low in his ear.

“Show the boy, Diggory.”

Cedric cast an uncomfortable glace towards Draco who stood frozen in place watching his Aunt with an expression of mingled fear and disgust. 

“Well I can hardly concentrate with you distracting me like this, can I?”

He’d meant to sound calm and dispassionate but it had come out sounding anything but. In a flair of irritation at the Muggle and himself he cast the curse. Bellatrix laughed in triumph, the sound mixing eerily with the girl’s screams. After another handful of seconds had dripped past, he let it end and ignored the girl as she tried pitiably to crawl away.

Bellatrix, who had moved closer to the girl to watch her struggles now sashayed back across the room towards Cedric with barely a backward glance towards her nephew.

“Deal with that mess, Draco.” She said airily, fixing Cedric with a look of such intensity he felt like she would burn him. “And leave us. Diggory and I have things to discuss.”

Malfoy seemed to have no trouble with his magic when it wasn’t an Unforgiveable Curse. He left quickly, the Muggle lolling along like some grotesque puppet behind him.

“I came to say goodnight.” Cedric straightened his robes, stepping back from her to get some distance.

Bellatrix looked at him in mocking disbelief. “You are leaving so soon? But the night is barely begun. No; you will come with me.”

Trained by months of compliance Cedric allowed her to steer him out of the room, the halls around them dark and silent with everyone still at the meal. He could get lost in these sprawling places but she moved on relentlessly, her grip on his wrist tight as she began to climb the stairs.

“I don’t…” he began and then yelped as she dug her nails in and pressed on until they came to a half open door to a bedroom. She pushed him in ahead of her and then shut the door, her body between him and the exit. 

“Oh, my beautiful boy.” She sighed. “You use the Art so gracefully and still you wonder why I am drawn to you?” 

He let her lift his hand up to her face and then, watching himself from the outside, let his fingers brush over her cheek. It was then that the sudden acute awareness of where they were and what she wanted them to do hit him like a wave of cold water.

What would Sebastian say if he could see this?

Bellatrix laughed softly at his indecision. “You so full of passion for that boy. You love him?”

“I – I don’t know.” He stammered, wondering how she could know when he had never even breathed Sebastian’s name out loud in this place.

“Liar.” Bellatrix laughed and dropping her hand lower squeezed, drawing a ragged gasp out of his throat. “Don’t lie to me, Diggory.” She murmured, searing his skin with another hard kiss. “I don’t like it.”

“Yes Madame Lestrange…” He didn’t want to respond this way but it was primal. He was slipping.

“Bella.” The name was hissed like a brand into his skin. Fingers worked at the fastening to his clothes.

“Bella…” he repeated, Sebastian dropping from his mind as easily as the cloak slid from his shoulders.

*  
She held him close after it was over, seeming calmed by having her desires fulfilled. He lay there feeling warm, relaxed and trying to ignore the guilt burgeoning inside him. 

“You remind me of myself.” She said quietly, none of the usual harsh edge to her voice present now. “So young.”

There was nothing he could think to say to that and so he didn’t. 

After a short while longer she stood and straightened out her dress. “I must attend to the Dark Lord.” When Cedric didn’t immediately also rise, she sighed. “Go. Up. Get dressed and go home.”

He didn’t go home straight away. He couldn’t. There were too many thoughts in his head and he didn’t want to lie next to Sebastian with the touch of Bellatrix Lestrange still on him. As he walked through the deserted early morning streets of London, he thought about what Sebastian had said and the world that he was helping to build. He didn’t care about the Muggles and the Mudbloods, or at least he needed not to care in order to be able to do the things he did, still old loyalties died hard.

He pressed the switch on the door and heard the chime sound inside.

The next thing he knew his legs locked together and he topped in an undignified heap on the front lawn of the house. A pair of familiar ankles strode into view and he felt his wand being removed from his pocket.  
“Do you think I’d ring the doorbell if I was going to attack your house?” He muttered, rubbing at an already generous lump on his knee as the hex was lifted.

Alfred shrugged. “Can’t blame a Muggleborn for being a little jumpy in these times. Come in if you want but I’m keeping the wand while you’re in here.” 

*  
Alfred had shooed his Mum and sisters out of the kitchen. The house was bright and white and clean, nothing like the propaganda of filthy Muggle living that Cedric was now helping to spread throughout the Wizarding Community.

They sat with a table and two cups of tea between them. Alfred’s face bore the ghosts of smile lines that hadn’t been there when Cedric had last really looked at him. He’d grown a beard by the looks of it and shaved it off.

“It’s been two years, Cedric.”

Cedric shrugged hopelessly. “I know.”

“You never wrote to us.” There was another long pause. “We were your friends.”

Past tense duly noted. Cedric fought down the urge to grab his wand and run. What was he doing here? “I thought you wouldn’t want to know me.”

Alfred leaned back. “You didn’t give us a chance. So why are you here now? Do you want to start again?” 

Cedric shook his head and saw the hope that had sparked in Alfred’s expression die just as swiftly as it had risen. It was too late for that.

“I came to tell you to leave.”

Alfred threw him a sceptical look. “That’s one thing you and Humphrey still have in common. He thinks I should go into hiding.”

“Hiding won’t be good enough.” Cedric felt his words start to trip over one another in his hurry to speak. “You need to take your family and get out of the country while you still can. You may only have weeks left.”

Alfred shook his head. “I can’t leave. I’ve got a job and…”

“Do you want to die?” Cedric snapped, losing patience. “Because that is what is going to happen if you stay here. They will hunt you down, they will torture you for sport and then they will kill you. The Ministry will not protect you.”

“Right,” Alfred’s laughter sounded forced. “I suppose you heard that from old Darth Voldy himself?”

Cedric gave him a long, hard look and watched the colour drain from Alfred’s face as his former friend finally understood the implications of what he was saying.

“All of us? My Mum and Dad as well?”

Cedric gave a short nod. “If you can.”

Alfred looked around hopelessly as if trying to imagine leaving. “I suppose we could go to…”

“Don’t tell me.” Cedric said sharply. “I don’t want to know. I’m – it might be me they send to look for you.”

The two years that had separated their last conversation from this one had never seemed wider than in this moment. Alfred looked at him strangely for a brief second and then held out Cedric’s wand. Cedric slipped it back into his pocket and met Alfred’s eyes uncertain of what to say now he had delivered his warning. If they were lucky; they would never see each other again.

He sighed and headed for the door. “Goodbye then.”

Alfred made no attempt to stop him.


	18. Chapter 18

Sebastian woke him later that morning at about eight with a cup of strong coffee and some toast.

“I thought you’d want to have breakfast before you head to the Ministry.”

“Oh I…it’s Christmas, they’re giving everyone a break.” Cedric yawned hugely and stretched. He didn’t miss the flick of Sebastian’s gaze towards his left arm. He frowned and yanked it up fully to expose the unmarked inside of his forearm. “Not yet.”

Sebastian nodded but didn’t say anything more. 

It was a cold and rainy day when they finally set out to complete their Christmas shopping at Diagon Alley. Presents seemed a strange thing to want in the tense atmosphere but he couldn’t help himself trying anyway. He managed to find a Quaffle signed by Sebastian’s favourite Chaser which he dropped into his extendable bag when Sebastian had disappeared into Flourish and Blotts. For his Father it was a collection of extremely rare potion ingredients and for his Mum the most expensive Goblin made jewellery he could afford.

He saw a Witch in the distance that for a fraction of a second he thought was Bellatrix Lestrange and his heart skipped a beat before he registered that it could never be her. Sebastian gave him that same sad and suspicious look that was becoming ever more common on his face these days. Cedric sighed. He’d never wanted to keep secrets from Sebastian but they were starting to pile up now. 

*

He continued to live his strange double life over the next three months. For most of the time and to most of the world he was a minor Ministry Official occasionally seen behind Pius Thicknesse or speaking earnestly with Corban Yaxley. To a select few others he was becoming something else entirely. The Dark Lord had made no mention of marking him, something that he was not sure if he felt resentment or relief about, but rather had recognised Cedric’s rather particular talents and begun to put them to use.

He had been sound asleep next to Sebastian when the elf had come with the message this time. Now, walking through the rooms of the Manor Cedric could hear the screams from the far end of a corridor, mingled with the high cold chuckle of the Dark Lord. As he got closer the door to the main dining room banged open. Draco Malfoy stumbled out into the hallway and promptly vomited all over the decorative tiling. The Dark Lord's voice followed after him full of amused mockery.

"Come Draco, surely you haven't had your fill already?"

Cedric gave Malfoy one contemptuous look and pushed past him, dropping to one knee as he came before his Master. "My Lord you called for me?"

"Ah Cedric, yes..." the Dark Lord stepped aside to reveal a prone and sobbing figure sprawled in front of the fireplace. "Ollivander here has some information that I require. He is proving quite stubborn. McNair tells me that you have proven most effective with our other guests."

"Yes, My Lord," Cedric felt a perverse sense of pride that the Dark Lord had taken note of his work "I have learned that pain is best applied with precision."

"And so often overlooked in favour of brute force," The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed as Ollivander made an aborted attempt to sit up. "Please, do not let me delay you any further in your duties."

Cedric nodded and got to his feet, pacing around Ollivander to get the measure of him and build the anticipation both for himself and the unfortunate Wizard about to be on the wrong end of his wand. He had long ago given up feeling guilty for enjoying this and now even felt pleased that he was able to serve the Dark Lord so effectively. Every person he broke was one less opposition to the world he wanted to build. And anyway, a little pain and suffering was good for a person, it helped them grow.

He sighed and looked down at the old man at his feet. "This will all go better for you if you simply do as you are bid."

Oliivander's wide silver eyes looked up at him, a flickering defiance still there behind the fear. Not yet, he told himself, drawing out the silence and allowing Ollivander the time to answer. There were always others he could practice on at his leisure. This one was too important to rush.

"Well," he said almost regretfully, "I did warn you." He raised his wand and smiled; this was the best part.

Ollivander screamed.

Several hours later it was done. Cedric had to give the old man credit he had lasted well, particularly given that he had been subject to the clumsy efforts of Malfoy beforehand. That boy should really show some more commitment. Cedric felt the usual warm contentment that followed pouring all his hate and scorn into a hard session. He knelt again, waiting to be dismissed.

"You have done well, Cedric." There was approval in the Dark Lord's tone as he watched Dolohov levitating an unconscious Ollivander back down to the cellars below the Manor. "It seems that McNair was not wrong to speak so highly of you."

That brought another warm glow to his chest. "Thank you, My Lord."

" You may go. I will summon you again soon enough," The Dark Lord's tone became abruptly impersonal once more. "Ensure you are ready when the time comes."

"Yes, My Lord. Thank you." Cedric left without another word.

There was no sign of Malfoy or anyone else in the dark hallways. The vomit was gone at least. He walked out into the cold night air to just beyond the gates of the Manor before Apparating back to the flat. The clock on the wall read three am when he glanced at it, hastily peeling out of his robes. It had been a demanding night and he briefly contemplated running a bath.

"Ced?" Sebastian's voice sounded full of sleep. "Where've you been? Come back to bed." Cedric smiled fondly. The bath could wait until morning.

"Just had a few things to do." He murmured, slipping back under the blankets and curling up against the warmth of Sebastian's body. "Go back to sleep. Everything is fine."

*

The first crack, when his two lives began to bleed into one another, came when news broke in the Prophet that Roger Davies had announced his engagement to a Muggle. It had been a scandal of course and it was decided in short order that there was a need to make an example out of him.

“You can do it,” Yaxley had said, turning to him. “And make sure he knows where the message came from.”

That was how he came to be here now, walking up the quiet streets of a Lincolnshire Village in Death Eater robes and one of Yaxley’s masks covering his face. The mask was a beautiful thing for all the terror it inspired. It was easy to hide behind it. Cedric stood contemplating the house for a few minutes before sealing all the doors and set the house on fire.

Davies came bursting out the door moments later with his Muggle in tow. Cedric had Davies’ wand out of his hands with one simple incantation and caught it neatly. The Muggle started screaming at the sight of him and he had to stun her to get her to stop. 

“You are a pathetic excuse for a Wizard.” Cedric spat. “But even you should have more dignity that to mate with filth.” 

Davies looked like he was going to wet himself. “You – you don’t scare me.”

“I might not, but the Dark Lord should.” Cedric let his wand trace delicate patterns in the air and then fired off another curse at the house. There was a crash of falling masonry. “You are on the wrong side, Davies. Get rid of the Muggle bitch and find yourself someone worthy. If I come back and find you with her then it’ll be worse for you.”

The last thing he expected was for Davies to launch himself at him. It was only a glancing blow and Cedric had him on the ground again in seconds, his screams utterly silent as he writhed there. Davies didn’t get up again when he lifted the curse, lying in a huddled, defeated heap.

He should kill the Muggle. He knew that the others would want him to but he hadn’t yet managed the Killing Curse and the other ways were, well, difficult. Instead he banished Davies’ wand some thirty feet away from the house and disapparated. It was only once he was safely back at the flat and folding his robes away that he realised the mask was gone. 

*

Two weeks later, over a Saturday morning breakfast, the crack shattered.

“Roger Davies came to see me yesterday.” Sebastian said quietly. 

Cedric stomach gave a jolt. He hadn’t thought about Roger Davies since the night two weeks ago where he had carried out the Dark Lord’s orders. He glanced up trying not to give any sign of recognition at the name. “Yes?”

The mask dropped down on Cedric’s copy of the Prophet with a cold thud. “Enough.” Sebastian said flatly. “I won’t stand by and watch you do this anymore.”

“You picked a funny time to grow a moral conscience.” Cedric said lightly, feeling the thud of blood in his ears. 

“Don’t talk to me about conscience.” Sebastian was shouting now, tears streaming down his face. “You threatened him. You destroyed his home.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “You tortured him.”

Cedric felt a horrible coldness come over him. “There wasn’t any permanent damage. I did him a favour really, anyone else would have killed the Muggle.”

“Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?” Sebastian demanded, snatching up the mask and throwing it at him. It caught him in the face and the hot trickle of blood began to run down his temple. “Get out.” 

This was just like all the other times. They would get through this and Sebastian would return to looking the other way. “I do what I am told to do. When the new world is born, we…”

“I said,” Sebastian raised his wand, arm shaking, “get out.”

Cedric laughed. “You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t stand a chance.” He dodged as Sebastian’s misdirected hex fired past his left shoulder and shattered a windowpane. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sebastian. I lo…”

“Get out.” Another hex. “Out.” And another. 

Cedric could have stopped him, could have put him under the Imperius curse and clung to him for just a little longer but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

*  
After that nothing and no one mattered any more. He moved to the Manor and was the occasional plaything of Bellatrix as the mood took her but everyone else seemed to give him a wide berth. There were girls of course or at least their parents tried to arrange things but Cedric knew that they were afraid of him and didn’t care enough to try and reassure them. His service to the Dark Lord was the only thing that bought him any real relief. He supposed it had become addictive now, the rush of power, control and drained feeling when it was over.

Then very early one morning in late June he was woken from a fitful sleep to the sound of cheers and drunken laughter. 

He pulled on a robe, splashed cold water across his face and went to investigate.

The scene was unlike any he had yet witnessed at the Manor. The Dark Lord sat in his usual place, aloof and above the rest. Bellatrix sat curled at his feet, her gaze turned up towards him like a faithful pet. The Carrows by the looks of it were deep into their second bottle of mead along with Rowle, the three of them laughing uproariously at some shared joke.

It took him a moment to spot Draco Malfoy, thinner than ever and pale, off to one side next to the rigid figure of Severus Snape. The boy looked haunted, and no wonder Cedric thought, after all his time had nearly expired. Snape he did not look at for he had little time for him, Bellatrix had shared her suspicions openly enough and Cedric did not want any association with something that might prevent him from his work.

“Cedric,” the Dark Lord’s clear voice rang out above the noise and stilled it. “Join us, drink.”

“My Lord,” he took the glass the Alecto pressed into his hand and bowed respectfully to his Master. “What should I drink to?”

“To the death of Albus Dumbledore,” the Dark Lord smiled mirthlessly, “and the coming end of Harry Potter.”

Cedric felt a burst of surprise and relief as he digested this news. He raised his glass and drank to more cheers. His eyes flicked sideways to Malfoy again and saw the briefest flash of relief cross the boy’s mask like expression. It was strange to think the old man dead. Cedric had always thought of him as someone who would go on forever. Certainly, the path ahead would be easier with him gone.

“And we should drink to Gibbon too.” The Dark Lord continued softly. “Who has given his life in my service.”

“It was his own…” Amycus began and cutting off sharply as his sister kicked him.

Voldemort continued as if the interruption had not happened. “His Family will be provided for of course and we have many more ready to take his place.” 

At the mention of Gibbon’s death Cedric felt those eyes on him again, brushing aside his non-existent defences and laying him open. No one spoke. No one moved. After a long few seconds it was over.

“You have proven yourself loyal, Cedric. Now I will ask you to make one more demonstration of your commitment. Kneel before me.”

Cedric’s body obeyed before he’d consciously processed the words. Long pale fingers extended themselves tangling in his hair and pulling back his head so that he was looking directly up into his Master’s eyes.

“Hold his arm, Bella.”

“Yes Master.” Bellatrix’s breath was hot against his cheek as her lips grazed a line along his jawbone speaking softly enough that only he, the Dark Lord and she would hear. “The pain will last only a moment.”

Cedric nodded and set his jaw and readied himself as he felt the wand tip touch his skin but still it threatened to overwhelm him. It was like having hot metal pressed against his skin. His breath caught in his throat as he held back a scream and he saw amusement in the Dark Lord’s eyes. 

At last it was over and the heat faded as fast as it had begun. He was glad he was on his knees because he was sure he couldn’t have remained standing through that. 

At last the tight grip on his hair loosened and the Dark Lord sat back to regard him with a lazy pride.

“We are joined now, Cedric. Your fate is tied to mine.”

As if it hadn’t been already, Cedric thought, breathing out slowly and running his fingers over the raw reddened mark. 

“Yes, Master.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking this journey. If you've read all the way to end drop me a line :) I appreciate it.


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